


The Time of Our Lives

by IntotheStarkerVerse (IntotheStarkerverse)



Series: Life and Times [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Heist, M/M, Medium Burn, Sexual Tension, Smut, Time Travel, Tumblr Prompts, Young!Tony Stark, endgame spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2020-03-01 09:34:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 47,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18797701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntotheStarkerverse/pseuds/IntotheStarkerVerse
Summary: Based on a tumblr prompt from Geekymarvel...Peter is tasked with an important mission that requires him to go back in time.  Finding himself at a gala for Stark industries in the 1990's, he comes face to face with a young and incorrigible Tony Stark who considers Peter's attempts to deny his advances a challenge.  Now, dogged by a horny young CEO who won't take no for an answer, Peter's task has become much more difficult....(STORY CONTAINS ENDGAME SPOILERS)





	1. Time of the Season

It began with a dream.

Peter had not been sleeping well since he returned from dust and watched his mentor die saving the universe. There were so many things left unsaid, so many regrets, and so much that he felt he had missed out on in his absence. He was surviving on a cocktail of energy drinks and melatonin that kept him awake when needed and lulled him into a deep sleep when he found his own fatigue was too great to withstand any longer.

He couldn’t recall the last time he’d had a dream that wasn’t a pulse pounding nightmare that left him dripping with tears or sweat when he finally pulled himself out of the terrors his own sleeping mind created. This night, he found himself facing something completely different than his average night terrors and, at first, he had trouble even differentiating it from the real world.

“Mr. Stark?”

The lab felt cold, as if the a/c was cranked to its highest setting. The lighting was too dim, the shade too warm. It smelled…wrong, almost clinical. There was no smell of warm metal and oil on the air. Peter paused, searching the room for his mentor. The moment his eyes landed upon him, Peter dropped his backpack, heavy with textbooks and homework and rushed forward, eager to begin whatever task Mr. Stark had for him that day. Instead, he came to an abrupt stop, staring at the man he loved so dearly.

Tony Stark was standing completely still, staring at Peter but not moving, not so much as breathing. It was so unlike the man that it was freaking Peter out. “Uh…Mr. Stark? You okay, Sir?”

The man blinked, finally, gaze slowly moving to lock with Peter’s and the teenager shifted uncomfortably under the weight of it. There was something wrong with his eyes. They were not the deep brown that Peter remembered, instead they shone a shifting hue of gold. “Our sincerest apologies for the nature of this meeting, Peter Parker.” While the voice sounded like Tony, there was a lack of warmth to the tone and a stilted nature to the words that reminded Peter of a poorly developed computerized voice from some non-Stark AI.

Peter’s eyes widened at the strangeness of his mentor’s behavior. “M…Mr. Stark?”

“No. We have assumed a form we know to be important to you, Peter Parker, but we are not Anthony Stark.”

“Then what are you?”

“The singularities. The Gems. The Stones of Infinity.”

“Wait…what?” Peter looked around at the lab, realizing now why nothing seemed exactly right. It was a dream. It was all a dream. While Peter wasn’t an avid lucid dreamer, he did become self aware in dreams with enough frequency to relax somewhat at the truly outrageous nature of what he was experiencing. Speaking with Infinity Stones wasn’t as terrible as most of his nightmares. He’d heard that overdosing on melatonin caused vivid and often nonsensical dreams, clearly he was going to need to drop his dosage. “Thanos destroyed the Infinity Stones.”

“The mind of Anthony Stark considered you a man of science, Peter Parker, what then does the first law of your thermodynamics teach you?”

Peter chewed his lower lip momentarily, he knew exactly what his dream was referring to, but he didn’t like what it was implying. “The law of conservation of energy. It can be transformed or transferred but it cannot be created or destroyed.”

“And what are the Stones if not energy, Peter Parker?”

Letting out a long sigh, he scored a hand through his hair. “Okay…so the Stones changed into a dream vision of Tony Stark? That seems…unlikely.”

“No. We lost our physical form. Our energy is no longer contained. It is spreading throughout space and time. Soon, it will reach the Heart of the Universe. When this occurs, your world…and every world, will cease to exist.”

Peter froze, his mouth falling open. Scratch everything he’d thought before, this was worse than any of the nightmares he’d had yet. “Okay…let’s say…let’s just say I believe you, why are you talking to me? You know I’m just a kid from Queens, right? There are like…gods and aliens and geniuses and people way better qualified to keep the universe from imploding or exploding or just plain ploding than me. Why enter my dreams…what’s the point?”

“We have an intimate knowledge of three minds, three souls. Thanos. Bruce Banner. And Anthony Stark. It was Anthony Stark’s sacrifice which impressed us most. Through the Vision, the Mind Stone was able to gain access to his brain patterns, his thoughts. He was a worthy hero, and of all those with whom he interacted in his lifetime…it was you, Peter Parker, in whom he had the greatest trust, hope, and faith. That is why we seek you out and why we ask you to aid us in saving ourselves and all that lives and exists in your plane.”

Peter blinked at the thing that was wearing Mr. Stark’s face, using his voice. He was the one that Mr. Stark trusted most? Him? His mentor had a strange way of showing it. “You must be confused…”

“There is no confusion. We require your assistance, Peter Parker, and we believe based upon our knowledge of Anthony Stark that you will not refuse us…and for the task that we require completed, we believe you are the least likely to fail.”

Peter didn’t know what to do. This was by far the strangest dream he’d ever had, but try as he might, he couldn’t seem to wake himself up. “You have enough power to snap away half of the universe, me included, why can’t you just create your own bodies?” Picking apart the logical discrepancies in his dream seemed his last avenue towards wakefulness.

“We cannot wield our power on our own and you are not strong enough to wield us collectively without perishing as Anthony Stark did.”

“Okay…let’s just say…let’s say I’m going to help you. What…what do you need me to do if you don’t want me to make you bodies by snap?”

“There is a device in Anthony Stark’s memories. A ‘prototype’ that was created by his father. With modifications, it can be used to collect our energy and confine it much in the way the Stones did.”

“So you need me to get the device? I can do that. Tell me where it is…”

“It was destroyed.”

“Can I make another one?”

“No. Anthony Stark did not see the plans for this device, neither does he know how to recreate it without them. They died with Howard Stark.”

This was incredibly frustrating. “Okay…so…what do you expect me to do, then? I can’t snap. I can’t get the device. I can’t build it. What good am I to you guys?” Peter pressed his fingers to his temples, trying to combat the headache that was building behind his eyes. “You’re not making any sense.”

As if sensing the frustrations of the boy in front of them, the figure shifted. “We have been attempting to save you from distress, Peter Parker, but we are failing to connect with you through methods of the Mind. It is imperative that you assist us and we will use any means necessary to gain your allegiance. Allow us to attempt the use of Soul.”

“What?” Peter was about to try scaling the building and jumping off the roof to try to utilize the falling sensation to wake up from his dream when he saw the change in the figure’s eyes. Gold to orange. But it wasn’t just the eyes, it was something else, the way the figure was standing, the life behind the eyes.

“Kid…”

Peter froze, his hands beginning a small but noticeable trembling at his sides. “Muh…Mr. Stark?”

“Yeah, Kid.”

Peter surged forward, throwing his arms around the man, forcing himself not to hold on too tightly lest he literally crush him in a super powered embrace. Hot tears formed in his eyes and he could feel them falling down his cheeks. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to do, but all he could manage at the moment was to ask a simple question into the now damp fabric of Tony’s shirt. “Soul. Using Soul means using your soul?”

“Yeah, something like that.” Tony squeezed the kid back and Peter no longer had any desire to wake up ever again. “Look, Kid, we don’t have a lot of time here…You leave REM sleep and the window of communication is gone without potentially harming you with the Infinity Stones. As much as I want to make this more sentimental, we don’t have time.” Tony rested his hands on the kid’s shoulders, giving them a tight squeeze as he pushed him back to look him in the eye. “You can’t wield the Stones together, but they can allow you to use them separately and for simple, isolated tasks within reasonable intervals. With the power spreading through the universe, they don’t have enough backlash to kill or maim you…they don’t even have enough power to make this job easier for you, just enough to get the job done.”

“But what job, Mr. Stark? What…what am I supposed to do?” As much as Peter wanted to relish being close to Tony once more, he understood the urgency and forced himself to return to the task at hand. He really didn’t want to fail Mr. Stark now, not after everything they’d been through.

Mr. Stark gave him a sad smile. “You’re going to go back in time to a point before the device was destroyed. Steal it…and bring it back here where we can modify it and save the universe one more time.”

“B…back in time?”

“Yeah, it’s not as bad as it sounds. I mean it is…paradoxes and all that jazz, but I did it and nothing terrible happened. Your odds are pretty good not to muck this up. I’m just sorry they won’t be sending anyone with you.”

“I’m going alone?” Peter didn’t know when he’d gone from believing this was an elaborate dream to absolute truth. Well, no, he did. It was the second he’d actually started talking to Mr. Stark. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“I do.” Tony gave him an apologetic half smile. “You’re going to a gala at Stark Industries in 1992. There’s security, but it won’t be a match for Spider-Man. You get in, you get the device, and you get out. The Stones will return you to the present and I will try to help you determine how to modify the device through your REM sleep cycle. Simple.”

“Simple.” Peter scoffed. “Whatever you say, Mr. Stark. I don’t even know what it looks like…”

“Like this.” Tony stepped back, holding out his hand before a metal object, roughly the size of a retro lunchbox, materialized in it. Peter studied it. It wasn’t much to see, really. Small and angular with moving parts, what appeared to be gold and crystalline components and a very rudimentary circuit board. They did say it was going to need to be updated. “It was going to be destroyed the following business day, so you’ll find it in the company’s incinerator.”

“Of course, I will, and I can’t go get it before it’s in a giant furnace?”

“No, security will be too tight.” The object in Tony’s hand vanished again and he reached out instead to cup the side of Peter’s face. “Pete, you can do this. I hate to ask it of you, but there is no one else I trust. You gotta do it.”

“Fine.” Peter sighed. “Fine.” No sooner had the words left his mouth than Tony’s eyes glowed again, this time taking on an emerald green color, flashing red, purple, and blue periodically before the world went black.

The first thing Peter became aware of as his dream faded was the sound of a string quartet and the low murmur of voices all around him. Blinking open his eyes, the teenager was assaulted by several things all at once.

He was no longer in his bedroom in Queens.

Instead, he was standing in the middle of an ostentatiously decorated foyer of what appeared to be Stark Industries headquarters…on the west coast…and not in 2023. Hair, makeup, and fashion was all reminiscent of very old 90’s movies and in a very unfortunate way. Struck by abject terror, he looked down at himself to make sure he was not wearing the over-sized Iron Man t-shirt and boxers he’d collapsed in the night before. Instead, he was both relieved and shocked to find that he was now dressed in a tuxedo complete with bow tie and shiny black dress shoes. He smoothed one hand over the jacket and wondered idly what the rest of him looked like. If only there was a mirror nearby so he could see. His gaze swept the room, finally noticing the mirror behind the temporary bar they’d set up for the gala. Peter was going to head in that direction just to satisfy his own curiosity, when he drew up short in the middle of the room looking far too conspicuous and neither noticing nor caring.

He couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t think.

All he could do was stare.

—

Tony Stark had a reputation as the kind of young man who enjoyed a good party, probably a little bit too much…but unfortunately for him, this was not a good party. He swore he could practically taste the Ben-Gay, Old Spice, and cigar smoke in the air, the aroma was so strong. Everywhere he looked there were old men and their gold-digging wives. Every conversation was about business, stocks, politics…it was mind numbingly boring. There wasn’t a worthwhile scientist in the bunch, so there was no hope for intelligent conversation at all…and the only people at the party that he found even mildly attractive were the caterers. Tony had parked himself at the bar, drowning sorrows in expensive Scotch and doing his best to avoid the sycophants who hovered around the youngest Fortune 500 CEO in history, anxious to curtail some kind of favor. Maybe he should have let Obie run the company a little longer? Or, at the very least, be his ‘face’ at events like this one. Clearly, one of the first things Tony needed to do now that he was in charge was hire some younger, more attractive people into the upper echelon of the business.

He was in the process of flirting with the bartender, the guy wasn’t half bad. He was no male model, but Tony could at least pass the time with the guy… Then, something far more interesting caught his eye.

It wasn’t that the kid looked out of place. Well, no, he did. He totally and completely did. He was by far the youngest person in the room and Tony could have sworn he hadn’t seen him an hour ago, nor had he ever seen him before. He’d remember this one.

Tony drained his Scotch and tapped absently on the side of the empty glass as he leaned against the bar and observed.

The kid was standing with his eyes closed. That alone seemed a little strange. His reaction when he opened his eyes was just as peculiar. He looked…startled? Not just by where he was, but by his own tuxedo. Tony found himself laughing softly at the way the kid examined his clothes as if he hadn’t put them on himself just a few hours ago. Then, his gaze was sweeping the room and he was heading in Tony’s direction.

Maybe Tony’s luck was about to change?

They locked eyes across the room and Tony had trouble reading the expression in those captivating doe eyes. He looked…frightened, surprised, perhaps even overjoyed. He could work with all three of those emotions, actually. They’d make for a delightful cocktail later.

The bartender had returned with Scotch to refill his glass but Tony waved him away without taking his eyes off the kid who was now frozen like a young buck on the highway. “Two flutes of champagne.” He held out his hands for the objects, determined not to break eye contact lest the kid get away. He really didn’t want to let this one get away.

When the crystal flutes were pressed into his waiting hands, Tony started across the room. He broke eye contact but didn’t look away from the kid. Instead, his gaze raked over the boy. Slimly muscular. He looked…elegant in his tuxedo. Lovelier than any of the women in their evening gowns. His hair was styled with just enough gel to tame what Tony hoped were usually unruly chestnut tresses that would look deliciously attractive after he’d run his fingers through them, mussed them up, and given them a good tug.

Tony was only a few feet away from the boy when the kid seemed to snap out of his trance and looked as if he was going to make a break for it. The young CEO of Stark Industries rushed forward the last few steps, holding out one of the flutes of champagne with a lascivious grin. “Don’t even think about it, sweetheart. I didn’t come all the way over here to watch you walk away…although, I’m sure that’s a sight I’d enjoy.” The boy’s eyes had grown ridiculously wide at the statement. Somehow, he managed to both pale and blush at the same time. Tony found that absolutely irresistible. “Go on. Take it. Something tells me your nerves could use a little alcohol.”

“I’m not old enough to drink.”

Tony laughed, “I won’t tell if you don’t, baby.”

The boy’s adam’s apple bobbed noticeably with a gulp as he took the flute of champagne and stared at it as if he was uncertain about what do with it.

“Go on. Put it against your lips, sweetheart. Open your mouth. Swallow. I promise, you’ll like it.”

Damn. The kid almost dropped the glass. It was only Tony’s quick response and the hand that had lingered within the boy’s personal space that kept the glass and it’s contents from hitting the floor. His cheeks were absolutely on fire now and Tony was loving every minute of it. “You want me to keep calling you by pet names, beautiful, or are you going to tell me your actual name?”

“Peter. Peter Parker.” Tony pressed the glass back into his hands and guided them up to press the lip of the glass against his mouth. Peter took a small sip, his nose crinkling at the bubbles and probably the taste of the champagne.

“How old are you, sweetheart?”

“Seventeen…” His answer was lost in the glass as he drained the contents on his second drink.

Tony glanced at his own glass and held it out to the kid. “Go on, baby, I’m nothing if not a generous lover.”

Peter coughed but took the glass and swallowed it’s contents in another quick gulp. Now holding two empty champagne flutes, he looked around nervously for something to do with them, and Tony graciously took both only to deposit them on a caterer’s tray.

“Who am I going to have to promote for bringing you here tonight, Peter? I thought this was going to be a complete waste of my time…but here you are like a princess from a fairy tale ready to bring a little magic to my night. I want to make sure your fairy godmother is adequately rewarded.”

“Does…does that make you Prince Charming in this scenario?”

“That is what I was going for, yeah. And don’t think you can avoid answering my question by distracting me with my analogy, dear. Who brought you?”

“No one. I mean…well…” Peter was stuttering and Tony was enjoying the hell out of it. Really, the kid couldn’t be any more adorable. He was ready to lead him to the executive elevator and blow off more than just this party. “No one you know? I…kind of…I’m crashing, I guess. I wasn’t really invited. Someone I know…kind of snuck me in.”

“Well, I consider myself a very lucky man then, Peter. Since you’re not here with anyone, it means I can steal you away without anyone noticing you’re gone.”

Peter was staring at Tony’s lips as he wet them with his tongue in a less than innocently suggestive way. He’d bridged the distance between them and slipped an arm around the boy’s waist with practiced ease, steering him towards the elevator bay. Peter allowed himself to be directed for several steps before he gave a little start and tried to pull away.

“I can’t. I have…something I need to do.”

“Something you need to do at a party you weren’t invited to?”

“Yeah? I mean, I didn’t just crash for shits and giggles, Mr. Stark.”

Tony stepped backward, clutching as his chest with both hands. “Did you just ‘Mr. Stark’ me? C’mon, beautiful, what the hell did I do to deserve that? Do I look like a Mr. Stark to you? Really? So many things I want you to call me tonight…that is not one of ‘em. Now, stop playing hard to get and let me show you a good time…I promise you won’t regret it.”

“No, Mr. Stark,” Again with that hideous moniker. Tony might have thought it was an innocent blunder, but there was a new fire in the kid’s eyes that had him a little surprised. “I have things I have to do…and you’re not nearly as charming as you think you are.”

Tony’s brows rose in surprise. The kid had spunk. God damn, that only made him want him more. “Oh, I don’t know, I think I’m pretty damn charming…”

“Not surprising.”

Tony cocked his head at the kid. “I’m digging your idea of foreplay, sweetheart, keep it coming.”

“What?!” Peter’s voice rose in octave and volume and several nearby people turned to look at them. Tony didn’t care, but Peter seemed to because he dropped his voice and stepped a little closer to Tony. “It’s not…it’s not foreplay, Mr. Stark. Geez…I have important things to do, okay? Way more important things than flirting or making out or…whatever you have in mind. I have to go and you have to leave me alone. You really, really have to leave me alone.”

Tony held up his hands in mock surrender. “If you can look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want me, I’ll let you go.”

“I don’t want you.”

“You’re looking me in the nose, Peter.”

“UGH! Why do have to come on so strong?! It’s so exhausting. Give it a rest. Gosh. Too much. It’s all too much. You’re too much. You’re not at a freaking night club. You know, I never understood how you got your bad reputation…but I kinda have to say that I’m seeing how the whole playboy thing came about and I gotta say…it’s accurate. I…I like the other you better.”

“Other me?” Now Tony was intrigued. “What ‘other me?’”

“Scientist, for one.”

Peter wanted the scientist over the playboy? Tony frowned. Damn. If Peter thought that was going to turn Tony off, he was dead wrong. The pretty package, the hard to get, the apparent love of science…Tony had no intention of letting this one get away. Peter was only succeeding in turning mild interest into full on infatuation. “Whatever you have to do can wait until after I’ve had my way with you in the elevator. The party’s not going anywhere.”

“The party’s not, but I am.” Peter’s tone was full of his exasperation at Tony and the situation. Turning around, he practically shoved his way through men that could have bought and sold entire American towns on a whim.

Tony was left chuckling to himself. Oh, his night had gone from boring to one of the best he’d had in ages…and he had no intentions of letting Peter Parker get away from him that easily.

This was going to be fun.

He loved a good chase.


	2. When Love Runs High

Be careful what you wish for. It was a cliched adage that old people were always quoting as if they were the first ones to think of such a priceless nugget of wisdom. Never before in Peter’s life had he been granted such an acute understanding of just how wise it was.

How many times in the last several years had he wished for something just like this? He’d pined for Tony Stark from the solitude of his own bedroom since his very early teens when his hero worship for Iron Man had been swallowed by a budding sexuality it had taken him years to completely accept and understand.

Just once he had wished and hoped and dreamed that Mr. Stark would see him as something other than a child, but he also knew how ridiculous that desire was. He was a stupid kid who could barely talk to the man without stumbling over his words. He made huge, dangerous blunders. Mr. Stark was never going to feel about Peter the way Peter felt about him and he had accepted the one-sided nature of his love for the man a long, long time ago.

And now…Tony’s words were burned across his brain. He could hear his voice echoing those not-so-innocent terms of endearment. His skin felt hot where Tony had touched him as if imprints of his hands were scorched onto the skin. More than anything in the world, Peter wanted to turn around and indulge in whatever filthy things he knew this younger version of his mentor probably had in mind. He wanted to bask in the knowledge that his attraction to Tony Stark was, in fact, not one-sided at all. In another world, another time, Tony could have been all his…and that realization was as tempting as it was terrifying.

Sometimes being a responsible super-hero really fucking sucked.

Or…didn’t suck…that was really the problem.

What might have been was literally going to haunt him for the rest of his life, and all Peter Parker could do was accept it and attempt to fulfill his mission. If he’d known that this was the ‘great responsibility’ Ben had been talking about, he might have taken a hard pass. A very hard pass. 

The mission. 

He needed to focus on the mission, not his own dangerously neglected libido.

The incinerator.

He needed to find the incinerator.

Probably in the basement with some kind of exhaust on the roof. His best bet at this point was just to dive down a hatch like in A New Hope and try to make the best of it, but finding a hatch to dive down wasn’t going to be easy. Security wasn’t as tight as it should be on the upper floors, everything seemed to be confined to the lower levels where the guests were…at least, that’s what Mr. Stark had implied in the dream. If Peter could swipe a security badge and get upstairs without being seen, at least half the battle would be won. 

“Excuse me, could you tell me where the security office is?” Peter put on his most innocent and boyish smile as he looked up hopefully at the security guard stationed by the wall where he was attempting to be at one with the artwork and plants on the edge of the foyer. He looked oddly familiar, but Peter couldn’t quite place why. He was very thin, very young, and not very experienced in his job if his body language was any indication. The somewhat familiar guard’s gaze shifted from the room to the boy in front of him and he frowned. 

“Why do you need to know that, kid?”

“Always asking the important questions, a trait I like in my personal security. What’s your name again?” An unwelcome voice sounded from behind Peter.

“Hogan, Sir.”

Woah, Happy! His initial surprise over the guard’s identity was eclipsed as Peter felt the fine hairs at the nape of his neck stand on end at the unexpected and unwelcome sound of Tony Stark’s voice. What good was a Spidey Sense if it didn’t tell you that someone was sneaking up on you? Except that the only danger that Tony Stark posed was to Peter’s virginity. Peter sighed and turned around to give the other man a scowl. “For your information, I found a wallet outside and I wanted to turn it in to security so the owner could get it back.”

Tony raised his eyebrows at this, tucking his hands into the pockets of his pants in a leisurely stance. “Aren’t you the boy scout? All right, sweetheart, I know everyone at this party. Why don’t you give me the wallet and I’ll see that it gets back to its owner. No bothering with security. Cut out the middle man.”

Peter could actually feel the color drain from his face as his mind searched for some way out of this mess. Frantically, he patted the pockets of his jacket and pants. He really didn’t have to try to look mortified or embarrassed, he was already there. “I…It was…I think…I don’t…I lost it.”

“You lost the lost wallet that you found outside…you’re not very responsible are you, Beautiful?”

Peter’s scowl only deepened. If he only knew how damn responsible Peter was the guy’s head would explode. Young Tony Stark was ridiculously hot to a degree that left Peter feeling lightheaded with want…but he was also kind of a jerk and that made Peter want to push him down a flight of stairs.

Peter noticed that Tony’s tuxedo jacket was unbuttoned, the flaps held back by his arms, hands still stuffed in the pockets of his pants. The teen couldn’t help but look. He was only human and this was the man he’d lusted after since adolescence and he did look positively godlike in a tuxedo. It was only when his gaze had fallen to Tony’s pants that he saw something fortuitous. And no, it wasn’t the obvious bulge of an impressively erect penis. Although he’d have to be blind not to see that. Peter was no idiot, it was precisely why Tony was standing in that position. The man had absolutely no shame and Peter both hated him and loved him for it. Oh no, the thing that had him smiling and his heart hammering out an insanely fast staccato beat in his chest was the sight of a security badge hanging nearby that impressively large bulge of fabric.

A glance back at Tony’s face revealed that he thought Peter’s reaction was all due to his impressive manhood and it was all Peter could do not to wipe the smile right off his face with the truth. He didn’t, though, because telling the man he wanted to steal his security badge was probably going to make actually stealing it much harder than it was already going to be. So he bit the inside of his cheek and felt the color rush back to his face in a brilliant red flush across his cheeks and the tips of his ears at the realization that Tony thought Peter had been staring (and smiling) at his junk for a good sixty seconds.

“How long are you going to pretend that you’re not as into me as I’m into you, Peter? The evidence is as clear as the crotch of your pants. Don’t get me wrong, I’m loving this thing we have going. Cat and mouse game, it’s sexy as hell…but I’ve got to say a few words to the shareholders in a little while and I want to know if I need to go rub one out so I don’t give them an eye full or if you’re actually going to give in with enough time for us to really have a good time tonight.”

Was it possible for his blush to get even darker? Yes. Yes, it was. Peter ducked his head and tried to position his hands over the front of his pants as if only becoming aware of his own predicament when Tony had the audacity to point it out. His mind had been so focused on other things that he had been able to relegate his physical desires to some distant part of his reptile brain. Now that Tony had called attention to it, Peter was suddenly aware of just how uncomfortably hard he was. “You are the literal worst, Tony Stark.” His voice came out in an awkward hiss of exasperation as he looked for somewhere, anywhere to hide away and deal with personal matters without involving the billionaire playboy. 

He spotted a bathroom a few yards away and began a less than subtle crab-walk in that direction. Tony’s laughter followed him, as did the man himself, striding with that same cocky self confidence and exhibitionism.

“I hate you.” Why wouldn’t Tony just leave him alone? What was worse, perhaps, was that the security guard was now also following them after a gesture from Tony. There were people looking, because honestly who wouldn’t look at the spectacle they were probably making of themselves? “I hate you so much, Tony Stark.”

“I can work with that. There’s such a thin demarcation between the really passionate emotions, Peter. Hatred and love are nearly interchangeable…as is lust.”

“I’m not lusting after you!” Lie.

“Keep telling yourself that, Kid, maybe you can make it true.”

Finally, the bathroom door was within arm’s reach, he burst through, attempting to whirl around and slam the door in Tony’s face, but the guard was just too fast. Happy blocked the move with an arm, and Peter was forced to either retreat or use enough force to break Happy’s arm. He retreated. Tony’s gaze swept the room, noticing a man standing in front of the urinal to their left. “You. Out. Now.”

Mumbling apologies, the man was still trying to tuck himself back into his pants as he stumbled hurriedly out the door and left Tony, Peter, and Happy alone.

“Why don’t you make sure we’re not interrupted, Happy? Peter and I need a little alone time.”

Peter gulped audibly as the security guard left the two of them alone. Tony would never hurt him. Even this jerky Tony, but Peter honestly didn’t know how strong his self control was going to be if things between them got more physical. He was a seventeen year old boy. He had so many hormones raging through his system right now that it was a testament to his willpower that he had withstood temptation this long.

Peter could actually smell Tony’s cologne he was now standing so close, and he was startled to realize that Tony hadn’t changed brands in almost thirty years. They said scent was closely tied to memory, and Peter had to agree that smelling that familiar aroma was reminding him that the man in front of him was every bit Anthony Edward Stark. A much less heroic version,to be sure, but Tony just the same.

The distance between them became even shorter as the other man stepped forward, the fingers of his right hand hovering dangerously close to Peter’s hip. The teen could practically feel the magnetic pull of them even through the thin layer of air that still separated them. Peter looked up at him, noting that Tony was drawing closer and closer. He could smell the alcohol on Tony’s breath when he spoke again, the whisper passing over the skin of his face like a caress and making him shiver. “All kidding aside, Peter Parker, I’m not here to force you into anything. If I’m reading the signs wrong…if you don’t want to kiss me every bit as badly as I want you to, you can go. If I’m right though, the only question is…what’s holding you back?”

Peter could do nothing but watch him lean in closer, saw the way his lips were parted, the darkness of his eyes, the hitch in his breathing. He hesitated, a thousand things conflicting in peter’s head and tying his thoughts into knots. Tony’s lips were only inches away. Everything he’d wanted for himself but been denied because of time and society and his own nerves and it was all right there for the taking. He just had to…

Peter rose a little on his toes, his own eyes locked on Tony’s mouth. A small growl erupted from the other man’s throat and Peter hesitated, drawing back again to look at him through thick lashes before he just gave in and did something supremely selfish.

Peter could practically feel the other man’s surprise. If he had been expecting a tender, close-lipped kiss that he could entice into something less innocent and more demanding, than he had every right to be surprised. Peter practically devoured him, lips parted and tongue demanding entry into Tony’s mouth almost before the man had time to register the kiss. Peter’s hands quickly found purchase at the back of his neck, digging into his scalp and using a surprising amount of force to keep his head in just the right position for those hungry kisses to continue. Peter felt the man growl against his mouth again, grabbing Peter by the ass and lifting him enough for Peter to wrap his legs around the other man’s waist and lock them into place. Peter thought Tony cursed at the feeling of the erection now pressed against his abs, but the word lost all articulation under the kisses that Peter was want to give up. Tony turned them both around, hoisting Peter a little higher to rest him against the sink and gain a little leverage. Finally, Peter had to pull back a little, gasping for air to fill his lungs, his hands leaving Tony’s head and instead finding their way to Tony’s pants.

Tony had turned his own attentions to Peter’s throat, making the teen moan softly at the wetness of his tongue, the friction of his teeth, and the sucking of his mouth that was going to leave purple bruises all up and down the pale and previously untouched skin of his neck. “I’m taking you home with me tonight.” Tony pulled back to look at him, hand coming up to cup the side of Peter’s face. He was laughing as he spoke, breathless and smiling and the look on his face made Peter want to cry. He’d never seen the man look so carefree and happy and he’d been responsible for that. Him. “I’m taking you back to my place as soon as I put on the show for the shareholders. I can’t possibly do all of the things I want to do to you in this bathroom…and I certainly can’t savor you the way I want to.” 

Peter’s fingers continued to caress the fabric of his pants, but he nodded at the plans. He really didn’t trust himself to speak. He didn’t even know if he could at the moment.

Tony had just returned to his lips, had only just begun to pull Peter’s shirt out of the cummerbund that held it when there was a nervous knock at the door.

“Mr. Stark, they’re calling for you to say a few words, Sir.”

“Fuck!” Tony nipped at Peter’s lip in consternation as he pulled back, drawing a little surprised squeal from the teenager who sucked his now bleeding lower lip into his mouth as he glanced between the CEO and the bathroom door. “Stall them.”

“Uh, Mr. Stark, I already did…everyone…is waiting.”

“Fuck!” Tony backed up a few steps looking behind Peter into the mirror and attempting to straighten himself up. It wasn’t going to be hard for anyone to know what he was doing in the bathroom. Even buttoning the tuxedo jacket over his pants wasn’t really hiding everything from view. The more astute party-goers were going to get an eye-full of their CEO. He didn’t know why, but Peter felt particularly pleased with that.

“Go ahead…I can just…I can wait here. The…the sooner you do that speech, the sooner we get to leave.”

Tony’s gaze raked over him before he nodded. “You’re right. I’ll make it short. I can think of a hundred things I’d rather be doing with my night than talking to those stiffs…and you feature heavily in all hundred of them.”

Peter was still blushing as Tony pushed out the bathroom door and vanished from view. The teenager remained where he was, still panting and sore from the kisses. But after he could hear the distant sound of Tony speaking into a microphone filtering through the bathroom door, he lifted his hand from his side and shook the security badge free that he’d palmed during the make-out session.

God, he wanted to go home with Tony tonight and lose his virginity a hundred different ways to the man he’d loved with all his heart, but duty called. Hopping down from the sink, he splashed a little cold water onto his face and surveyed his swollen lips in the mirror. “Come on, Spider-Man. The universe needs you. We gotta do this.”

Sliding out of the bathroom door, he was pleased to see that Happy had not been left to guard him. It appeared Tony was now safely assured of his victorious conquest. A part of Peter was particularly happy about getting the best of him, even if Tony’s balls weren’t the only ones that were going to be blue tonight.

—

Tony was not even thinking about his speech. He’d practiced it a few dozen times for Obie until the man was content that it sounded earnest enough. He could practically give it on autopilot, which was exactly what he was doing now. His mind, instead, was on the pretty little thing in the men’s room. Not only was he a sight to behold, but his fire and sass made Tony hungry with desire. Such a tantalizing package of innocence and beauty and hunger and fire. He wanted to explore every aspect of that multifaceted little diamond in the rough, and he had every intention of doing that until the wee hours of the morning…right up until he unbuttoned his jacket and realized that something was wrong.

“Okay, look, you’ve heard all of this before and I’ve had a little too much to drink, so let’s just enjoy the rest of the party and you can pretend like I gave you guys the song and dance you all expect, okay? Perfect.” He raced off the temporary stage two steps at a time, grabbing the arm of the security guard he’d commandeered to guard his bathroom escapade and steered him away from the foyer down an access hallway. “That little minx stole my ID.” He hissed the words at Hogan. What was it everyone called him? Happy. Yes, Happy. They burst into the security office and Tony gestured at the wall of television screens in front of them. “Find him. I want to know where he is and what he’s doing with my card. Now.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Happy set to work calling up a quick, interchanging circuit of the cameras that watched nearly ever inch of the building. It took several seconds, but soon he was pointing at one towards the middle. “There, Sir, the executive elevator.”

“My executive elevator.” He spoke through clenched teeth as he leaned forward to get a better view. The kid was nervous. He could see him fidgeting as the elevator made a swift ascent to the executive offices on the upper floors. If he’d wanted to see the offices, all he’d had to do was ask. Tony would have been only too happy to bend him over his desk and fuck him into next week. This whole spy routine, it was only succeeding in pissing Tony off. He didn’t know who the kid was or who he worked for, but he had every intention of finding out.

“What the fuck is he…” Tony frowned as the kid rolled up his sleeve and began to mess with something on his wrist. A moment later and Tony was viewing the impossible. Something appeared to pour from the watch housing, coalescing up his arms and around his body to form a hard exoskeleton. An armor. It was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen. If he’d enjoyed the way the kid’s tuxedo hung, he had a whole new appreciation for the boy’s physique now. As the elevator ground to a stop, the kid exited, looking around as if he expected to be stopped by a guard, but there were no guards. Lots of cameras. But the guards were all downstairs.

Was he tiptoeing? It looked like he was tiptoeing down the corridor to Tony’s own office. Tony expected him to go for the computers or the desk, perhaps the hard files, any number of things. Instead, the kid was walking along the walls looking for something. He appeared to find it when he pulled out a hatch that led to the incinerator in the basement. Turning away from the hatch, he shot something from his wrist onto one of the built in book cases on the far wall, tested the tensile strength, and then jumped through the hatch, disappearing once more from view.

“Come on, Happy.” He waved the man to follow him as he headed back towards the elevators.

“Where are we going, Sir?”

“Basement. We’re going to catch our little intruder and find out what the hell he’s doing here and who sent him.”


	3. To Take You in the Sun

“Get on your radio. I want S.H.I.E.L.D. I want the F.B.I. I want the N.S.A. I want everyone with a god damn badge and an acronym for a name here in ten minutes.” When there was no immediate response from Happy, Tony turned to take in the other man’s embarrassed expression, barely losing a step of his meaningful stride. “Tell me you have your radio.”

“I left it in the security office.”

“Of course you did.” Tony skidded to a stop in front of the elevator, reaching for his security badge for executive override and realizing with an angry growl that he didn’t have it. The kid did. “Fine, go back to the security office and call in the cavalry then.”

“I can’t let you go down there alone, Sir, it could be dangerous.”

“See, I thought I was the boss here. My name and not yours on the building, the paychecks…Happy Industries sounds like a brothel or a pizza parlor with an animatronic rat, you know? Is this a whore house or a pizza arcade, Happy? No. Then just do what I say or hit the unemployment line in the morning, I honestly don’t care which you choose.” He turned his back to thesecurity guard and began mashing the down arrow on the elevator again and again and again as if that would make it arrive faster. When it still hadn’t arrived after several seconds, he begrudgingly pushed his way through the door to the emergency stairwell somewhat placated that Happy was not behind him and had done as instructed and gone back to get the authorities. Tony honestly wasn’t worried about the kid hurting him. If Peter Parker wanted him dead, he would have killed him when they were alone in the Men’s Room. Nah, this kid was out for something other than blood...it was just a real damn shame it wasn’t sex.

By the time he reached the incinerator in the basement Tony was a little breathless. The door providing access to the inside of the incinerator for removal of ash and debris was open and there was the sound of movement echoing from within the large metal room. “All right, Kid, you’ve got at best fifteen minutes before this building is swarming with federal agents. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll run…” Tony’s words died on his lips as he stepped into the open doorway and several things became apparent at once.

That was not the kid in the incinerator. 

It was, in fact, three individuals dressed in black who were collecting a myriad of items from the incinerator that Tony hadn’t recalled ordering destroyed. Two of them did not even look up from their work, but the third individual swung his considerably impressive firearm in Tony’s direction and let off several rounds of gunfire before Tony’s words had even stopped echoing in the room.

—

There were very few times in Peter Parker’s life when his proclivity for mathematics and the physical sciences was a hindrance. This was one of those few times. As he slowly climbed down the never-ending shaft of the incinerator on finger tips and toes, his brain was busy calculating the height of the shaft, how much time it would take him to fall down it, how much damage he would sustain from the fall, and any number of worse doomsday scenarios.

Truth was, he knew he had nothing to worry about. He had pretty good stamina and his muscles weren’t even beginning to sting yet. In the grand scheme of things, this should be a piece of cake…but Peter had a little bit of trouble with very confined spaces ever since Vulture dropped a building on him. It wasn’t a full-fledged phobia. He certainly tried to avoid very tight places if he could help it, though, and this incinerator shaft was about as tight as they came. If he was any larger, he probably wouldn’t have been able to fit inside it. As it was, there was little more than a couple of inches to either side of his shoulders and his knees and ass were scraping the other sides as he crawled down. It was also exceptionally dark and quiet. All he could hear was the steady rhythm of his own heartbeat and the sound of his somewhat frenzied breathing against the mask of his ironspider suit. He really missed Karen. Being without the AI didn’t make the suit useless, it was still every bit as intuitive as it had ever been…but Karen was a point of comfort that he could have used as he convinced himself that the tiny incinerator shaft was no big deal at all.

Spidey sense came first, as it was always want to do. The familiar tingling at the base of his skull that flared quickly enough to a full fledged stabbing pain. Peter had learned over the years to take his Spidey sense with a grain of salt. Sometimes it had a habit of alerting him to dangers that were rather mundane and not at all life threatening. His reaction to the warning was more dependent upon the circumstances. In a fight, he was much more likely to duck, expecting an oncoming projectile, than he was in the middle of Calculus. Sometimes, for the sake of secret identities, it was important to let the spitball Flash had lobbed at his head hit him between the eyes. Didn’t mean he had to like it, though.

This time, Peter paid attention to his biological warning system, slowing down and taking the last few yards of decent much more carefully than the first hundred or so. He didn’t jump out of the shaft as he might have done without the warning, instead angling himself to cling to the roof of the incinerator as he poured his body out of the hole and was finally able to take stock of the situation.

Three men.

All in black. They were loading a reinforced metal crate with objects from the incinerator. One of which, he saw with dismay, was the one he had been sent to recover. This complicated matters much more than he cared to admit. Were these people supposed to steal this stuff? Could he afford to stop them completely and take the machine, or should he just try to get the machine away from them and try to avoid affecting the time stream even more than he already had? Why hadn’t Tony or the stones known about this in the first place? What was he going to do?

It was Tony’s voice that pulled him out of the worried maelstrom of his own thoughts. 

Oh no.

Oh God.

Peter saw the one with the gun turn towards the doorway and his head exploded with a thousand warnings.

He absolutely could not let Tony Stark die.

The world seemed to slow down, seconds taking minutes as they passed. Spider-Man aimed for the barrel of the gun, firing a quick burst of webbing and using all of his strength to pull the gun up so that as it fired, the rounds skittered above Tony’s head and out into the basement where he hoped they would do no harm.

He left the ceiling in a graceful leap, hands colliding with the shooter’s shoulders as he pushed him to the ground and delivered a forceful right hook to the man’s masked face. Peter was used to pulling his punches. He was far too strong to hit an average person with the full brunt of his power. Not if he didn’t want to knock someone’s head off, anyway. This time, perhaps, he didn’t hold back quite enough. The guy wasn’t dead. He’d never forgive himself if he killed an actual person, but he was adequately stunned…maybe even concussed. 

One down.

Two to go.

—

Tony Stark’s life did not flash before his eyes. He was more than a little grateful for that, because truthfully he had done very little worth reliving at that juncture. His only thought, in fact, as he watched the sparks fly from the end of the gun as the bullets fired, was that he was going to die without ever taking that sweet piece of thieving ass to bed. And that was a shame.

Then the bullets were whizzing overhead and he was enraptured, watching that sweet piece of thieving ass saving his damn life. If he had thought the kid was attractive before, he was gone for the boy now. Watching him fight was the best possible kind of foreplay and Tony could even forgive his little stunt in the bathroom in favor of what he was seeing now.

Peter Parker was an artist. There was a grace and a fluidity to his movements that reminded Tony of a dancer or a gymnast as he sprang and flipped and flew around the incinerator. He was flexible. Oh, was he flexible. Watching the way his body could twist and bend had Tony lost in all kinds of lascivious thoughts, imagining all of the new, exciting sexual adventures he could have with a beautiful boy who could move like that. 

He was also a smart ass. Every punch and kick, every time he fired that fluid from his wrists and jerked one of the men across the room, it was always accompanied by some sarcastic remark or witty banter that had Tony smiling despite himself. Dammit. He had been determined to be angry at the kid, angry enough to deny him sex and see him carted off to a S.H.I.E.L.D. prison, but he could already feel that resolve crumbling. Beautiful boys with bodies as skilled at movement as his and a tongue as sharp were so hard to come by. No, so very, very hard to find and so very, very easy to cum by.

As Peter sent one of the men flying into the other and both crumpled into piles of shredded and discarded paperwork, he came to light directly in front of Tony. “Mr. Stark, could you…I don’t know, maybe not stand there in the open like a sitting duck? I really can’t be responsible for you dying again and I can’t stop these guys and protect you too…”

Again? “Protect me?” Tony was offended to the depths of his soul. “I do not need to be protected, Peter.”

The eyes of the suit widened somewhat, obviously surprised to hear Tony use his real name. Then, with a sigh, the mask over his head melted away and he addressed Tony face to face. “You do actually. You really do. And you can’t die, so…I’m really, really sorry about this…”

Before Tony knew what was happening, the kid had fired two quick shots of webbing, binding first his ankles and then his arms to his sides. With a somewhat gentle kick, he tipped the man over and sent him rolling away from the entrance.

—

Peter really shouldn’t have been surprised that Tony had known who he was. Tony always knew who he was, it seemed. In the future, in the past. He was just never going to be able to maintain a secret identity with Tony Stark. The man was destined to always know Peter’s deepest and darkest secrets…except for the one he’d kept closely guarded for far too long. That secret he had never intended to allow to see the light of day, but one devilishly sexy younger version of his mentor was teasing him with so many possibilities that he feared his secret desires were not secret anymore. If he only had more time…He thought he saw something, a dark look in Tony’s eyes a moment before the man fell and rolled out of the doorway. Clearly, Peter was now not the only one who’d be having fantasies about tying Tony up with webbing and doing dirty, dirty things. He felt his cheeks blush a moment before his Spidey Sense flared again and he dived before a spray of gunfire erupted behind him.

“Okay, guys, seriously…enough is enough.” Peter bounced up again, annoyed to see that the third man was not as incapacitated as he had previously thought. “I’m not letting you leave with that stuff, and in case you missed what the man said before you so rudely tried to kill him…the cops are on the way.”

“Yes, they are.”

The voice had come from behind Peter, not in front of him, and slowly the boy turned to face a new arrival. This man was not dressed in black but in an expensive tuxedo. He’d been one of the guests, then. Probably the one who’d let these guys into the incinerator in the first place. It was not the man that had Peter frozen in fear, though, but what the man was holding.

Tony was still bound, and probably would be for another hour without Peter’s solvent to dissolve the webbing. Unfortunately, this meant he was not putting up much of a fight to the man who now had a gun pressed against his head. “You’re going to let us out of here, all of us, with the contraband…or Tony Stark is going to leave here in a body bag.”

Peter held up his hands, palms splayed, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “Hey, man, you don’t want to hurt him, do you? I mean, you’ve gone to this much trouble to steal his stuff…if he’s dead, how’s he goin’ to invent something new for you to steal?”

“How indeed.” The man’s gaze moved to the disguised men who were once again scrambling to fill the crate as quickly as they could. “Oh, just leave the rest. We don’t have time. We’ll have to be content with what we’ve got. Pack up the crate, we’re leaving.”

Peter watched as the men lifted the heavy crate and began carrying it out. He dropped his hands to his side as the man’s attention was on the crate for a split second, barely the blink of an eye, firing off a quick tracker that embedded in the seaming of the crate. 

When the crate and the men were out of the incinerator, Peter was preparing to launch an offensive and keep that guy from putting a bullet in Tony’s brain. He needn’t have worried, though. Just as Peter was rushing forward for the attack, he felt a heavy object collide with him and send him to the ground with an indelicate grunt. Then, he heard the sound of the door slamming shut and felt his stomach sink.

Oh no.

He pushed himself up, locking gazes with Tony who had been summarily thrown into the room at him. “Oh shit.” Peter’s gaze moved from the man to the room around them as he heard machinery whirring to life. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

The incinerator was coming on.

They were going to burn the two of them alive.

Peter reached for Tony, the solvent that dissolved the webbing loosening the bonds on the other man's arms and legs.

“This whole keeping me safe thing…you’re really terrible at it, kid.”

“We don’t have time for your sarcasm.” Peter was searching the room, desperate for some way out. The chute was too small for the both of them…probably too small for Tony. His shoulders were much broader than Peter’s, an attribute that Peter had always found attractive. The chimney was likely too tall, too thin, and with too few purchases for webbing. Not to mention the fact that fire and hot air from the incinerator were going to go up that chimney faster than he could climb with a passenger. He couldn’t stop the flame, not without literally ripping the incinerator apart. That left him with only one option…

His mental calculations were interrupted by the feeling of an arm around his waist pulling him in close and then kissing him again. God, even the fire of the incinerator wasn’t going to be able compete with this heat. Peter whimpered but tried to push himself away. “If I’m going to die, I’m going to go out on my terms.” Tony’s voice rasped against his lips and Peter couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Rain check. On the kissing, not the dying.” He succeeded in pushing himself away and flipped upward, watching dubiously as the fire began to spew from several pipes along the bottom of the room. Tony was backing towards the middle of the room, as far from the fire as he could get, as Peter anchored webbing a little into the shaft from which he’d entered and backed up to a far corner of the room, turning around to brace his arms, back, and legs against the ceiling.

Tony followed his gaze to the door. “You realize that’s sealed shut. It would take a hell of a lot of pressure to open it from the inside.”

“2 tons, give or take, depending on where I hit it. Already did the math. Should be easy.” Something in Tony’s eyes made Peter smirk. Had he just licked his lips like he was looking at a piece of chocolate cake…while he was looking at Peter? Oh this was bad, this was very, very bad…but all the more reason to live.

He used every ounce of strength he could muster, pushing off of the ceiling and hurtling towards the door. A moment before his feet struck it, he watched in abject horror as it swung open of it’s own accord and he had to try to slow himself down before he barreled right into young Happy Hogan. Blindly shooting a stream of webbing, it struck something overhead and he pulled himself sharply to the right, swinging in an arc and hitting the nearby broiler hard enough to leave what Peter would later swear was a vaguely human imprint. Groaning, he collapsed onto his back on the floor and watched from his new vantage point as Tony emerged from the incinerator looking none the worse for wear.

“Good job, Happy. You deserve a promotion. Personal security sound good to you? You can keep me safe, get a pay raise, show the kid how you save someone’s life the right way.” Tony crossed the basement, standing over Peter with his arms crossed over his chest. “The cops here yet, Happy?”

“Coming down any minute, Sir.”

Peter was up in a moment, ignoring the aches from his collision with the building’s heating system. “I’m begging you, Mr. Stark, please don’t tell S.H.I.E.L.D or the police what happened. They can’t know I’m here, no one else can know I’m here…or what they took or anything else. Please…Please, Mr. Stark…”

“I do love to see you beg, Beautiful, but why should I? You stole from me. You almost got me barbecued…and you’ve already done irreparable harm to the time stream, anyway.”

Peter stopped in mid sentence, his whole body completely rigid at Tony’s reprimand. Only his eyes moved as they widened considerably at the implications of the statement. “Wuh…How…What…I’m not…”

Tony stared back, his mouth twisted into a frown, brows raised. “Yeah, you did and you are. So, if you want me to keep you out of prison…you have a very small window of time in which to tell me why a future version of myself chose to send you back in time, what you needed in that incinerator, and why. Spill it, and don’t waste time on that adorable stutter.”


	4. What's your name?  Who's your daddy?

Despite Tony’s warning, Peter had dissolved into a stuttering mess of unintelligible syllables that when strung together made little to no sense in any earthly language. It was only the sharp feeling of a slap against his cheek that drew Peter’s garbled babbling to a stop. “Ouch!” He forgot to be flustered and afraid in the wake of his indignation. Which…had probably been Tony’s plan all along, come to think of it. 

“Snap out of it, Peter, I’d rather lock you in my room than in a jail cell, so spit it out already!”

Peter could hear the sound of footsteps, several of them, the static of a radio, the sound of guns being drawn from holsters. It was too late, they were only yards away. “You saved the world but now there’s a complication and I’m the only one you trusted to come back here and stop it and I need a machine you were going to destroy in that incinerator and I was supposed to get it but they stole it and I need to get it back or the whole universe is going to cease to exist in 2023.” Peter’s run-on sentence came out in a rush of words with barely a pause between them, but Tony was able to follow the declaration without much trouble…or so it seemed. 

“Suit off, kid.” He tapped the armor of Peter’s suit with his index finger and Peter deactivated it, the armor melting back into the watch as Tony reached out, loosening Peter’s bow tie expertly with one hand while he ripped Peter’s dress shirt open with the other. Buttons popped and flew in every direction and Peter let out a little squeak of disapproval. “Play along, baby.” Tony hissed, “You too, Hogan, if you want to keep that promotion.”

“Yes, Sir.”

As the agents burst into the room with orders to freeze, put hands up, and every other cliche Peter had ever heard or seen on a procedural on network television, Tony Stark pushed him back several steps until his back collided with a wall. One hand was skimming the skin of Peter’s now exposed chest, fingers tracing every muscle, finger nails leaving faint white tracks over his pecs and down his abs as Tony’s other hand got a firm grasp on his chestnut curls and pulled his head roughly to the side. Peter clawed at Tony’s back, hands fisting around handfuls of his bespoke tuxedo jacket. Tony’s lips pressed a warm wet trail over his throat, teeth and tongue pinching and lapping and sucking at the skin until Peter was whimpering and forgetting that there were probably a couple dozen people in the room.

Silence.

It would have been possible to hear a pin drop, though with the lack of pins in the room at the moment it was more the sound of Tony’s mouth on Peter’s skin that was the only noise breaking the awkward hush in the room. That was, of course, until someone cleared their throat rather loudly.

Tony paused, hovering over Peter’s throat so that his warm breath was drying the sloppy trail of kisses and bruises he’d left behind. Slowly, he drew back, turning around to face the agents who were wearing a combination of expressions. Some were amused, some were turned on, most were baffled and a couple looked incredibly annoyed.

Peter was trying to make his brain work again. All of the blood had rushed from one head to another and he wasn’t sure he was even capable of speech at the moment, but Tony was still holding onto him, an arm sliding around his waist and pulling him in close as they faced the agents. Peter looked up at Tony with hooded eyes, pupils blown wide by arousal. What the fuck was he planning, and did it involve more of that? Please say it involved more of that.

“We got a call that you were being robbed.” One of the agents stepped forward, speaking with an authoritative tone and with a no nonsense demeanor that Peter could tell was setting Tony’s nerves on edge. Just the way the man’s jaw set at the statement told Peter that the poor agent was in for it now. Looking back at the government agent, Peter squinted and frowned. Did he look familiar too? Maybe. Maybe but he couldn’t quite place him…there was something different about him and he just couldn’t put a finger on it…Oh! 

Oh, oh! 

Not a finger. 

An eye!

Well, two eyes, actually. 

Huh, weird.

Tony raised an eyebrow, “You did?”

“You tellin’ me you didn’t send your security guard to call us in over some covert, armored foreign operative stealing weapons from Stark Industries in the middle of your fancy dress ball upstairs?”

Tony laughed. He laughed so hard that his whole body shook and he pulled Peter closer, nuzzling into his hair and nipping at his ear. Peter’s eyes flickered closed for a moment, his whole body leaning into the man before Tony spoke again, so close to his ear that it was almost jarring. It was a stage whisper, meant to sound like something private between the two of them but clearly for everyone to hear nonetheless. “Do you hear that, Baby? Happy thought our little role play was real? Isn’t he silly, Sweetheart?”

“Happy’s so, so silly.” Peter had no idea what was happening, but he’d been told to play along and playing along with whatever Tony’s plan happened to be felt better than just about anything else he’d ever felt in his whole damn life. He’d say just about anything Tony wanted him to say in that moment.

“Role play?” The agent did not sound remotely as pleased as Peter was at the moment.

“Yeah, you know…when you and your lover play pretend to make things a bit more fun. Peter here wanted me to catch him in the act of stealing from the company and punish him…”

“Tony forgot the handcuffs, though.” With a little burst of inspiration now that Peter understood where this was going, he attempted to add his own flare to the tale they were telling and put on a petulant little pout for the agents. He caught the look of amusement Tony shot him and felt the hand still draped around his waist drop to give his ass a squeeze that made him squirm.

“I’m sorry, Baby. I blew it. And I promised to blow you to make up for it. But maybe we can borrow one of the agents’ cuffs…now that they’re here…” Tony seemed only too happy to encourage Peter to play along.

“Wasting government resources isn’t a joke, Stark.”

“Never said it was. Didn’t waste ‘em, either, if you recall…that’s all my security guard’s fault.” Tony was so glib. Peter loved it. God, he’d missed Tony’s sass. He’d missed so damn much about the man, and the longer he spent with this younger version of Tony, the more of his own Tony he could see in him.

“In my defense, the kid is a very good actor and what I overheard sounded very convincing.” Was Happy trying to save face? Peter almost felt sorry for him. Almost. He kinda had it coming though, what with the May situation…

“Even though this happens to be the help’s fault, I’m willing to accept responsibility for my lover’s superior acting skills. Send me a bill for whatever money you wasted showing up here…but give me a set of those handcuffs before you go and do go…sooner the better…we were in the middle of something pretty sexy before you showed up. Unless you want to stay and watch. I’m not opposed to an audience, are you, Sweetheart?”

Peter could feel himself blushing again, but he angled his face away from the agents and hid it by leaning into Tony’s shirt. Emboldened by Tony’s encouragement, Peter was willing to go a step further. “I think we could put on a show for them…” He felt Tony suck in a sharp breath as Peter bit down one of the buttons of his shirt and snapped the threads holding it in place just like he’d seen women do in movies when they were trying to be seductive. He spit it out over Tony’s shoulder and looked up in time to hear the older man growl deep in his throat.

There was a lot of murmuring behind them and Peter could hear most of the agents retreating. Most, but not all.

“Look here, Stark, if you’re playin’ some kind of game with us…I’m goin’ to find out. You may think you’re some kind of genius but it’s going to take a lot more than you got to pull one over on me.”

“I accept the challenge, Agent…”

“Fury.”

“But you’re so cuddly! Ironic.” Tony chuckled, “Now, either pull up a chair and shut the fuck up or get the fuck out because I’ve got some fucking to do and you’re killing the mood, Agent Furry.”

“Fury.”

“Isn’t that what I said? Seriously though…Get. The. Fuck. Out.”

“I’ve got my eye on you, Stark.”

Fury’s parting words had Peter dissolving into fits of hysterical laughter against Tony’s chest.

“Fuck kid, I don’t know what’s so funny, but you better be very happy that I’ve got such a bad reputation or that would have never worked.” Tony’s words were spoken in a whisper, no doubt uncertain if they were still being observed.

His laughter over Fury’s unintended joke had managed to bring Peter out of his aroused stupor enough to remember what he needed to be doing at that moment, and unfortunately it was not fucking Tony Stark. “But it did work, so I can track down that machine now and…”

“Nope. Not tonight you’re not. Did you not hear him, Peter? He’s got his eye on us.” Tony paused as Peter burst out laughing again. “He’s going to have someone watching us at least for the rest of the night if not longer. You do anything suspicious tonight and the jig is up. So, you’re going to come back to my place and we’re going to make Fury think that we are doing exactly what we told him we’re doing and we’ll worry about this machine of yours in the morning when he’s hopefully lost interest in us.”

Peter wanted to argue, he really did. He kept telling himself how much he needed to argue with Tony’s reasoning right up until the moment Tony was leading him into his home. Then, Peter had to admit that maybe, just maybe, he was pleased that the night was theirs and they needed to convince federal agents that they were lovers. He was kind of hoping that they were going to go to extreme lengths to make S.H.I.E.L.D buy into that story…

—

Tony saw his butler enter from the corridor. The man was always too perspicacious for his own good and had likely been awaiting Tony’s return from the gala for quite some time. The young CEO was both notorious for blowing off such stodgy functions early…and for bringing home unexpected guests. Only the butler’s eyes gave away his lack of surprise and overabundance of disapproval at the party favor Tony had with him tonight. He was maybe a little close to being too young for Tony, but four years was hardly scandalous. If Tony had actually finished high school at a normal age, they could have even been in the institution at the same time, if only for a year. Peter was hardly a child and most people who knew Tony Stark would argue that he was a far cry from an adult. Himself included. “Jarvis can take your jacket if you’d like, Sweetheart.”

Peter did an obvious double take, his mouth parted in an adorable little ‘o’ of disbelief. “Jarvis? For real? You’re a person?”

“The last time I check, Sir.” Jarvis’s tone was as dry as a good martini and Tony had to smile.

“Excuse the kid. He’s a time traveler on a mission to the save the universe and apparently the future is weird.”

“Indeed, I anticipated nothing less. Is the Tardis parked in the garage, then, Sir?” One eyebrow arced questioningly as he looked to the young man at Tony’s side. Tony heard the boy snicker.

“Delorean actually.”

“Yes, you do have more of a ‘Marty McFly’ aura about you. Apologies, my mistake.”

“I really like him!” Tony looked down, amused by Peter’s excited tone and the way he’d just grabbed Tony’s arm. His impossible large doe eyes darted to Tony’s face as he no doubt realized what he had done and let go of Tony’s arm.

“The feeling is mutual, Sir.” The simple phrase from the butler brought a rosy glow to Peter’s cheeks that made Tony want to trace the flush with his fingers.

“I’m glad my butler meets with your approval, Beautiful.” Tony did not fail to catch the look on Jarvis’s face as he disappeared back into the corridor. Tony knew when he’d been had. Peter might not be able to read the affection in his eyes, but if there was anyone who knew the intricacies of Tony’s body language and the often labyrinthine nature of his personality, it was Edwin Jarvis. It had not taken Peter long to charm the man who had been more of a father to Tony than Howard Stark had ever been, no doubt because Jarvis could see how utterly captivated Tony was with the kid. Tony would never admit to anyone that he was pleased Peter had managed to turn distaste to approval in such record time, even if it was going to give Jarvis fodder to tease Tony for weeks or even months to come.

“Umm…” Peter was fidgeting with the sides of his shirt which no longer sported buttons and had been hanging open since their encounter with S.H.I.E.L.D. He seemed to be trying to find a way to pull it closed and keep it that way, though his efforts were failing.

“I would apologize for that if I were actually sorry I’d done it. I don’t think you’re really sorry about it either.”

Peter gave up with a little shrug and turned around to examine the entryway, only turning when Tony offered to lead him to the living room. Peter looked relieved to be somewhere with a seat and immediately took up residence on the sofa without waiting for an invitation from Tony. The man had to chuckle to himself as he took the seat right next to the boy, making very little effort to keep any space open between them. “So, I saw you plant something on that crate, didn’t I? I assume it was a tracking device of some sort?”

“Yeah, oh yeah.” Peter was nodding furiously, chestnut curls bouncing with the movement as he pulled down his sleeve to reveal his watch and tapped the face several times. Tony found himself leaning forward with immense interest at the holographic display of the city that blinked to life in the air above the watch face. Sadly, there was no indication of any tracking device and after several moments, an error message began to scroll across the display. “Huh? I don’t…”

“GPS uses satellite for positioning, Peter. The satellite that your tracking device likely uses is not in orbit at the present time.”

“Shit. I didn’t think of that.”

“Obviously.” Tony held his hand out. “Give me the watch, Sweetheart. I’m working on A.I. It’s a long way from being anything nearly as prolific as I’d like it to be, but I think I can put it work on your tracking device. If the AI can ascertain the details about your nonexistent satellite, it can probably clone them and apply them to a Defense Department satellite we can commandeer long enough to find out where those men went.”

“Really? You can access Defense Department satellites?”

“Baby, I hacked the Defense Department at 16 on a fucking dare. They’ve yet to find a way to keep me out and they can’t put me in prison if they want new, shiny weapons of mass destruction to blow up our enemies with, now can they?”

“Guess not.” Peter hesitantly removed the watch and held it out to Tony. “Can you…just be careful? I need it for the suit and other important stuff.”

“You’re really telling me to handle this thing with care, huh? That’s where we’re at?” He could only shake his head at the absurdity of that. “Yeah, Peter, It’ll be fine. I’m going to run down to the lab to get the A.I. set up to find the solution to our little problem. Just…make yourself at home.”

Tony told himself that he wasn’t in a hurry. He certainly didn’t almost jog to the lab and back or tap his foot impatiently as the A.I. booted and set about preparing the tasks he had assigned. When he returned to the living room, however, he was certainly man enough to admit that he skidded to a halt and stared in appreciation at what awaited him.

Jarvis had apparently seen fit to bring Peter a change of clothes after noting the disarray of his tuxedo. Peter was now standing in the middle of the living room in nothing but a pair of red and gold boxer shorts with some sort of robot emblazoned on them. He was clutching a pair of Tony’s sweat pants in his hands, a t-shirt thrown across the arm of the sofa waiting for Peter to put it on, but now he was just frozen…staring at Tony as Tony stared at him and delighted in the way Peter’s blush spread to his chest. “I…uh…Mister Jarvis said you wouldn’t mind if I…”

“I mind.” Tony was making no attempt to look away or alleviate the kid’s embarrassment. “I’d much rather you not be wearing anything at all, but I guess if you have to wear clothes…my clothes sound like a decent compromise.”

Peter grimaced but finally tugged the sweat pants over his legs, tied the drawstring in a double knotted bow to keep the pants up over his more slender frame, and then sat down to roll the cuffs of the legs up once or twice. Tony was pleased to see that he wasn’t in as big a hurry to don the shirt. Good. 

“So..” Tony let the word hang between them for a minute. “You a super soldier or something? They get that formula working again in the future or what?”

Peter let out a nervous giggle. “Noooo…No, I’m no Captain America. I was…um…bitten by a radioactive spider.”

Tony’s look was dubious and Peter apparently found the need to defend that statement.

“I know it sounds crazy but that’s really what happened. I got really sick and then I got better and I could just do a lot of crazy things. I know it sounds nuts right now, but trust me…you’ll meet people who’ve had way weirder stuff happen to them over radiation than just me. I promise.” He was quiet again for a moment, staring at Tony and seemingly at war with himself. “Can I ask you something, Tony?”

“I’m clean. No STDs.”

“Uh…no that’s not…I mean, good for you? I guess. I mean that’s good to know. Not that…I need to know that…right now…or probably ever. Um, no, what I really wanted to know…” Damn, the kid was reaching for the shirt and tugging it down over his head. With as graceful and fluid as the boy was when he was fighting, there was something ridiculously awkward about the way he got dressed. “I was actually wondering how you figured out about the time travel and stuff…” His voice was muffled by the fabric of the shirt as he contorted to get it over his head and settle properly.

“Your watch. I noticed it in the bathroom when were making out, something I’d very much like to revisit tonight. There’s a Stark Industries logo on it. It’s not a model I recognized. At first I thought it might be a terrible knock off…and then you used it in the elevator. See, that kind of technology, it’s a couple decades out from anything I have in the pipeline and since I think SI’s intergalactic sales are a little lax at the moment, you can’t be an alien. That leaves the future. Plus you said you couldn’t let me die ‘again’, and that’s a can of worms I’m not touching because no one needs to know how or when they die. So that’s now I know you’re from the future. As for how I know who sent you…Since I’m the only person in the world smart enough to crack time travel, it means that I had to be the one who got you here.”

“Hank Pym…”

“Hank Pym! The guy’s a hack. One discovery does not a genius make. And if that bastard lucked into time travel, he sure as shit wouldn’t have sent you to me, Baby.” Peter was just nodding slowly now that he was fully clothed once more, watching Tony with his head angled downward in a mock display of innocence that Tony found both endearing and obnoxious. “Seriously, kid, you keep that coy act up and I’m going to give you something to be bashful about.”

“Promises, promises.” Peter said it under his breath, dripping with that sarcasm that had only really come out when he was wearing his mask, and his cheeks flared a brilliant shade of rose the moment he realized Tony heard him.

“So…you just always this shy, Baby, or can I take this to mean that we’re not lovers back where you come from?”

Peter’s eyes widened considerably and he coughed nervously into his hand as he shook his head vigorously. “Um, no, we’re not. I mean you’re kind of old…er…than me. By a lot. And I don’t think you see me that way. You treat me like a kid…it’s nice because you’re like the only father figure I have but also weird because I’ve been crushing on you for like…years…and there’s just…no spark on your end, you know? I mean I’ve watched. Pretty hard. I really wanted there to be, but nope. Sparkless.”

Tony stared at him in disbelief for a moment before rising from his seat to cross to the bar on the far side of the living room and pour himself several fingers of whiskey. He held the bottle up questioningly to Peter who just shook his head again. With a shrug, he retrieved a can of ginger ale from the mini-fridge beneath the bar that he sometimes used with bourbon and handed it over to the kid as he returned to his seat. “So, what I’m going to take from this little revelation of yours is that I’m actually going to learn self control and grow a considerable set of morals in my…old age, was it? Really didn’t think I had that in me. Actually, I don’t think anyone thinks I have that in me. So cheers to Old Man Stark and keepin’ it in his pants, hm? I’m adequately impressed by my self control, cause Baby, unless I’m impotent in this future of yours, I gotta say that I’ve thought about you ‘that way’. Don’t care how old I am. How moral. My sexual preferences are not going to change that much. I’ve just…learned to be a better man than I am now. Won’t the whole damn world be surprised by that one! The question we’re faced with at this point is whether you have a daddy complex and you’re only interested in me when we’re flirting with this Lolita vibe you had going…or if you’re willing to take advantage of Tony Stark while he’s still…young, virile, and happy being a sinner.”

Tony watched Peter carefully, noting the way the boy opened his mouth to speak several times and then closed it again before uttering a single syllable. It was adorable how conflicted he was, but Tony wasn’t sure he was going to be content to play with his food much longer. He was literally getting gray hairs waiting for the kid to scream ‘Fuck Me’ and jump on him like a cat in heat which was more what he wanted than what he expected. Finally, blushing again in the most comely way possible, Peter found his voice. “It’s not…it’s not a daddy complex. I…definitely still think you’re…really hot…now.”

“Not old, you mean.”

“Yeah, not old…” Peter rubbed at the back of his neck swallowing hard and suddenly looking everywhere in the room but at Tony directly.

“Good, because I think we’ve established that I think you’re one of the prettiest things I’ve ever seen. And since we have to convince the government that we’re fucking, it’s only right that we actually do.” He drained the rest of his whiskey and reached out with his free hand to trace the line of Peter’s thigh. “You ever…done anything like this before?”

“Not really?” Peter’s voice came out an octave higher than usual and was trembling ever so slightly. “I mean…not with someone else? I’ve read stuff and watched stuff…so I know how to do it and what to expect and…”

“Baby, oh baby, if you think a little porn and erotica has prepared you for a night with me, you’ve got another thing coming. I’m going to help you get in touch with a side of yourself you’ve never experienced before. I saw a glimpse of it tonight, biting off buttons, teasing me about handcuffs. There’s a whole wide world of things you’ve never even dreamed of, and introducing you to that…oh baby, that is going to be a supreme fucking pleasure in every sense of the term.”


	5. To Show You What You Need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the rating change. What follows is smut. If this isn't your cup of tea, you can come back for the next chapter and rest assured that you won't have missed much of the plot...

Peter had never been in Tony’s bedroom before and he really only caught the barest of glimpses of it now, encumbered as he was by Tony’s lips against his own and the many things that was doing to his brain. Tony could have led him anywhere in that moment, and he probably would have followed willingly and without question. Off a cliff? He’d plunge to his death happily. Up to a firing squad? Hang a target around his neck. The middle of the Sahara? Saddle up a camel. Into a pit of King Cobras? As long as Tony was there to suck out the poison… Peter didn’t know if Tony’s bedroom was as dangerous as all that, but a part of him wondered if it might just be worse… He was led into the room backward, stumbling from the living room, guided by Tony’s hands on his hips and only banging into the door frame once before they were safely inside.

The lights came on as they entered, but Peter’s attempt to look around was thwarted almost immediately. Tony’s hands slipped beneath the fabric of the t-shirt Peter was wearing, his touch feather soft as he traced his hands up Peter’s sides, hooking the edges of the shirt around his thumbs and dragging them up to expose his chest. The sensation of Tony’s fingers against his skin sent sweet shivers radiating through him.

“So, in these fantasies you have about me, Baby, you the top or the bottom?”

Peter felt like Tony had just thrown gasoline on him and lit a match. Every inch of exposed skin was on fire with the intensity of that blush. Could there have been a more embarrassing question? And in his haste to avoid answering, he could think of only one way to avoid it…deflection. “Who says I fantasize about you?” 

Tony chuckled leaning in close to Peter with the boy’s shirt hovering halfway up his torso, the sound of the genius’ laughter was rich against Peter’s ear as he nipped at the lobe and ran his tongue lazily around the delicate shell before delving inside. “I know you do, because let’s face it, Beautiful, you and I both know that you’ve been thinking about getting me like this for a long, long time. Naked. Ready to pop that cherry of yours and fuck you into next week. What with your crush, and all. I want to make sure you get everything you want out of it, live up to all of those lofty expectations, so tell me…top or bottom?”

Peter swallowed hard, barely able to make eye contact as he uttered a soft, “Bottom.”

“I thought as much. No shame in that, Sweetheart.” Tony continued to drag the shirt up, drawing his head back as he nudged Peter’s arms up and sliding the shirt free of his body before tossing it blindly into a distant corner of the room. “I’m versatile, and lemme tell you…there’s plenty of pleasure to be had on both sides. Especially if you’re lucky enough to have me on the other end.”

His attitude was emboldening the boy somewhat, but probably not in the way Tony hoped. “I really don’t fantasize about you, you know.” Peter’s voice was a little stronger, though tinged with uncertainty. Still, he managed a little defiance as he looked Tony straight in the eye and tried to avoid his semi-nakedness. “I fantasize about my Tony, the one in my time…I’ve never, ever fantasized about you.”

“You will now.“ Tony’s cocky smile made Peter want to push him away and walk out just to prove him wrong, but Peter’s body was already betraying him and Tony could see the evidence of his arousal so easily that there was no point in denying it. “Mmm…Baby, look at you. As much as you like to fight me…I’m sure you could be the most perfect little power bottom I’ve ever had the pleasure of fucking. If you were going to stick around long enough to feel as comfortable with your sexuality as you are with your sass, I’d be in trouble. It’s a shame really…I doubt I’ll be tired of you in one night, but I’ll damn sure try to get my fill.”

Tony’s hand traced a path back down Peter’s body and to the drawstring of his pants. He was about to tug the loops free when Peter slapped his hands away. Tony’s brash smile was back, head tipped casually to one side and brow raised in question as he looked at the boy.

“You’re over-dressed.” Peter’s observation brought another laugh to Tony’s lips as he looked down at what remained of his own tuxedo from the gala. In fact, all he had shed thus far was the jacket when he’d gotten home. 

“You wanna see me naked, Beautiful? I’ve got nothing to hide. All you had to do was ask.” Peter’s gaze was glued to the older man as he casually, leisurely loosened his bowtie, pulled it from the collar of his shirt and then tossed it into the distance to join Peter’s shirt. The cummerbund followed. Shoes, one at a time, kicked into the room with twin thumps. Before he could even attempt to reach down and remove his socks, Peter had surged forward to stop his hands with a firm grip on his wrists. If Peter was flirting with using too much force and the vice-like grip was a little painful, Peter noted that Tony didn’t say anything and his expression gave away no sign of discomfort.

“For someone with nothing to hide, you’re sure taking your sweet time.” Peter was done with the games. Tony was going to waste the entire night on foreplay…and not even the good kind. “You stalling or what? I’m beginning to think you’re all talk.” He let go of Tony’s wrists and crossed his arms in defiance, challenging. 

Something flashed in Tony’s eyes and the playful smile fell away from his lips. “All talk, huh? You think I can’t back it up? Here I was thinking you were shy and I needed to coax you into this with a little chit chat…My mistake. You’re going to owe me an apology, Baby. But I’ll forgive you, because you can eat your words after I eat your cock and all will be forgiven.”

Peter could feel the heat rising to his cheeks, but he had no time to dwell on his body’s involuntary reaction to Tony’s dirty talk. For the second time that night, buttons popped and careened around them, skittering off in every direction as Tony tore his shirt free and cast the ruined bespoke garment aside. Maintaining eye contact with Peter the whole time, he loosened his pants and dragged them down his legs. Peter wasn’t aware if he had merely taken his undergarments with them, or if he’d just not been wearing any at all. Fearfully, Peter was fairly certain it was the latter. When the older man was at last standing in front of him in all of his unabashedly naked glory, Peter was the first to look away, his gaze shifting to drink in the sight of his not-quite-mentor at what had to be his physical prime. 

The outline of Tony’s musculature was subtle, a gentle swell along his bicep, a subdued ripple across his stomach. It was only when he moved and the muscles beneath the olive tanned skin shifted that they no longer seemed insubstantial but vibrant with the promise of strength and virility. He didn’t spend hours in the gym each day trying to maintain a perfect beach body, his build was natural and somehow that made the teen appreciate it more. Peter’s mouth felt dry as his gaze raked over the other man, noting the chiseled line of Tony’s hips that tempted Peter’s gaze to dip even lower. He was close enough to touch, and despite his own trepidation, Peter found himself reaching out with trembling fingers tracing the dark hair that grew in a light dusting across Tony’s chest and vanished only to return in a thin line down his abs, presenting a lurid line to what Peter truly wanted to see but was stoically trying to avoid. His fingers stroked the short, coarse hairs, drawing a breathy growl from the other man. Peter caught his lower lip between his teeth as Tony reached out to capture his wrist and hold it firmly away from his stomach, hovering in the air between their bodies. “We both know that’s not what you want to touch.” 

Tony’s voice had dropped an octave and begun to resonate with a gravelly timbre that had not been there before. Still biting on his lip, Peter’s gaze was finally free to follow the trek of his own hand as Tony guided it towards what he most wanted and feared.

His knuckles brushed the velvet soft skin and Peter’s breath left him in a startled exhale. Fingers twitched and as Tony freed his hand, Peter stroked the pads of his fingers along Tony’s impressive length.

“Everything you imagined it would be, Sweetheart?”

Peter swallowed hard, determined not to let the man know how intimidated he actually was. “Maybe not as big as I thought it would be…”

Peter wasn’t expecting the snort of laughter that accompanied that statement, nor the way Tony roughly shoved him backwards. His legs connected with what had to be Tony’s bed, and he felt himself tumbling backwards onto the mattress. A little dazed, he stared up at the ceiling of the room, half expecting to see a mirror there, and somewhat disappointed when there wasn’t one. Tony’s face came back into view as he crawled over the boy, eyes hooded and expression serious. “You’re lucky I’m such a narcissist or that would’ve hurt my feelings. Fortunately for you, I know my dick is a thing of beauty and I have a special weakness for lover’s with a mouth on them. Speaking of mouths…why don’t I show you I can do more than just talk with mine, hm?”

This time Peter did nothing to stop him as Tony untied the drawstrings as his waist and he lifted his hips from the bed to allow Tony to slip the borrowed sweatpants down his legs. He didn’t see where the pants or the boxers ended up, but his mind wasn’t really focused on the clothes any longer.

Tony sat back, giving him an appraising look that almost made Peter’s nerves eclipse his arousal, but then Tony was running a hand up and down Peter’s inner thigh with that infuriating smile. “Everything about you has to be beautiful, doesn’t it baby? Shame there are no more Renaissance masters to immortalize you in marble. Prettiest little cock I’ve ever seen. I want to sink my teeth into every inch of your body. The Old Man must have some fucking impressive self control. I..don’t. Now…up against the headboard, Sweetheart, you’re going to want to watch this part. I promise.”

Not even tempted to argue with the instructions, Peter propped himself up on his arms, dragging himself backward until his elbows collided with a wall of pillows and he was able to recline against them to see what was happening further down the bed. His hands were almost shaking with anticipation, something that he saw Tony noting with a playful wink that made Peter want to smack him. Why did that man have to be so damn hot but so fucking infuriating?

There was going to be no way to preserve his dignity, and no way that he was going to be able to resist Tony Stark’s multitude of charms. That knowledge hit Peter the moment he saw the man leaning down, lips parted, headed straight for Peter’s already painfully erect shaft. At the last moment, Tony altered his course, instead leaning in to lick a line along Peter’s thigh following the dampness with the pinch of teeth and gentle suction of lips that was going to leave bruises behind on the alabaster skin. The tease drew a whimper of frustration from Peter’s mouth unbidden. 

“Oh, baby, don’t you like that?” Tony’s voice was a seductive croon, fingers already finding their way to the base of Peter’s cock to give his sac an exploratory squeeze. “What about this, hm? Not what you had in mind? Maybe you wanted something a little…deeper?”

Peter could not tear his eyes away. Tony seemed to be making it a point to maintain eye contact, to stare straight into his very soul as he leaned forward and passed his tongue teasingly against the underside of the flushed mushroom head of Peter’s erection. Peter’s hands darted out to either side, fingers curling into fists around silk sheets that were probably worth more than a month of May’s salary. Tony’s tongue was unrelenting, swirling over him in a teasing dance. Up and down. Over and back. Swirling and swirling. But never venture any further. It was maddening.

Peter’s eyes were beginning to water when Tony finally wrapped warm lips around the tip of his shaft and began to suck. He felt the older man’s tongue pressed flat against the underside of his cock. Tony was still staring directly into Peter’s eyes with that same self-satisfied smirk toying at the corner of his lips as he moved forward. Small sounds issued from the man’s throat, a deep-throated humming that made it sound as if the man found every inch of Peter as delicious to taste as he apparently was to look at. Inch by glorious inch he dragged Peter into his mouth until he could go no further. The teenager let out a full fledged moan, head thrown back against the pillows as Tony swallowed, the movement of his throat doing things to Peter that he had not known were entirely possible while his tongue continued a maddening dance pressed against the underside of his erection. Peter was not going to last much longer. He was mere seconds away. Back arching against the bed he could feel release building…

It was heaven, and then it wasn’t. The warmth was gone and Peter was sitting up a little, hair mussed, pupils blown, expression dazed and more than a little confused.

“Not yet, Love.” Tony had moved away, delved a hand into the drawer of a bedside table and returned with a tube of something Peter recognized. “We’re not quiet ready for all of that yet.”

Peter collapsed back against the pillows, trying to ignore the painfully aching need that was resonating through him as Tony spread the lube on his fingers. Pressing chaste kisses along the length of him, Tony slipped a hand beneath Peter. The boy was trying to prepare himself for the unfamiliar invasion of a stranger’s fingers, but instead he felt Tony pressing against the sensitive skin just behind his sac. The man’s other hand had pushed even further, coming to rest at the small of Peter’s back where he began a deep massage that stimulated nerve endings that Peter did not even known he had. Every pass of Tony’s hands sent shockwaves of pleasure radiating from unexpected places into his already painful erection.

Tony continued the ministrations for several minutes. Peter could see in his expression that Tony was enjoying every whimper and moan and breathy cry that the teen was trying desperately to hold back…but to no avail. Again he could feel it, the building potential that promised a soul shaking orgasm. He braced himself, desperate for the release…and then Tony was pulling back again and Peter let out a slurring string of expletives that left Tony with an ear to ear grin. “You thought I was going to let you get away with insulting my manhood and questioning my sexual prowess? Baby…you should know me better than that. Now…are you ready to eat your words?”

Peter nodded against the pillows, biting so hard against his lower lip that a few crimson pearls of blood were visible against the whiteness of his teeth.

“Apologize, Baby.”

Peter’s voice was ragged, breathy, and much shriller than he would have liked. “I’m sorry, Tony.”

“You going to fantasize about me or the Old Man from here on out?”

“Y…Y…You.”

“Good.” More lube was smeared onto Tony’s fingers as his hand once more slid beneath Peter. A sharp gasp accompanied the first finger that sought to fill Peter’s hollowness. It traced a path around his interior, slowly beginning to stretch him for what was to come. Peter’s attention, however, was torn between the ministrations of each of Tony’s hands. While one was working diligently to drive Peter into a heady coma of desire, the other was hard at work on his own erection. 

A second finger joined the effort to destroy Peter.

“God, Baby, you’re so beautiful. You almost ready, Lovely? I can’t wait to bury myself inside you. Knew the minute I saw you at the gala that I had to have you. And the suit…the fighting, the sassing…sexiest thing I’ve ever seen outside of a mirror.”

Peter almost tried to form a witty comeback, but a third finger joined the second and Peter’s words died on a howl.

“Oh look, I think you’re ready for me, Sweetheart.” Peter watched through hooded eyes as the man moved closer up the bed, crawling forward like a hungry jungle cat. Casually, resting on his knees, Tony ran his hands along Peter’s legs and lifted them one at a time to place them against his shoulders. The intense eye contact returned as Tony lined himself up. With a wink that made Peter bare his teeth in indignation, Tony began to slide himself inside of the teen and all hope of conscious thought was completely gone.

Tony’s hands wrapped around Peter’s ankles, holding him up, making Peter lift his hips from the bed and arch the small of his back. Peter’s hands left the fabric of the sheets, instead finding a better purchase on Tony’s ass where they clamped down hard enough to leave tiny, crimson half-moons from the pressure of his finger nails. When the rocking of Tony's hips was too slow for the desperate teen, he used his considerable strength to increase Tony's speed for him, something which drew a husky, "Fuck, that's hot, Kid" from his lover's mouth. 

Every thrust choked a cry from Peter’s lips as Tony angled himself for a direct hit against Peter’s prostrate that made the teen's toes curl in full view of the other man.

Peter couldn’t hold on, not for long. It was lucky that Tony seemed to have been anticipating the fun at least as much as Peter was, because moments after an iridescent tide painted itself across the lean muscles of Peter’s abs, he felt Tony finding his own release.

Sagging against the bed the teen tried to catch his breath and string together a few intelligent words, but he could seem to do nothing of the sort. All he could manage to do was lay dazed against the mattress, feeling the evidence of what they had done dripping down his sides and spreading in a warm, sticky flood beneath his ass.

Movement at the end of the bed drew Peter’s attention to the young billionaire who already seemed to be working himself back into fighting form. Peter’s eyebrows shot up. “We...again? I’m going to die.”

“Oh no, Baby, tonight we’re truly living. I told you, I have every intention of having my fill of you tonight. That was just the first course…we have so many left to go.”

It was going to be a long night, and Peter had no doubt he was going to enjoy every single second of it.

Far below the lovers in the emptiness of Tony's lab, the AI executed the genius' long list of commands. Between body bending bouts of lovemaking, the screen of the monitor began to blink with the acquired GPS location...


	6. Has He Taken Any Time, Any Time

Tony was staring and making no effort to hide it. He was captivated by the beautiful boy at the breakfast counter in the large modern kitchen that he rarely ever used. Peter was wearing only that same pair of boxers from the night before decorated with that red and gold robot that Tony didn’t recognize and one of the billionaire’s robes untied and hanging loosely off his lean shoulders. Completely unperturbed by his state of near undress, he was seated at the counter with a huge plate of various breakfast foods, eating bacon with his fingers in a way that was ridiculously obscene. There was a sparkle to his eyes and a shy little smile on his lips every time he looked up and met Tony’s gaze as if every look was accompanied by thoughts of what they’d spent the better part of the night doing.

“Do you eat like this every morning?” Peter’s excited tone and words spoken between bites of waffle that were dripping in butter and syrup made Tony smile despite himself.

“Actually, no. I usually just have coffee for breakfast. Sometimes something quick like toast…never anything like this.”

Peter hesitated, now, a fork halfway to his mouth with more soggy waffle dripping a long line of syrup back onto his plate. “Then…what is all of this?”

“My butler’s attempt to impress you, I think.”

Tony saw Peter’s gaze hover over the breakfast buffet as a wash of rose colored his cheeks. “It worked.”

“Clearly.” Tony was going to owe the man a thank you, not that gratitude was something Tony was known for. However, he was going to make an exception for this. “He never gets to show off his skills anymore, he was probably happy to have someone to enjoy his food for a change.” Jarvis had clearly demonstrated that he understood Tony better than anyone else, perhaps better even than he knew himself. As much as he wanted to think of Peter as the typical one night stand fare, it was clear from his lingering feelings that morning that this was not as transitory as he might have hoped.

“Why does he want to impress me, though?” Peter had moved from the waffle to a few pieces of French Toast and a pile of scrambled eggs. “Oh my God, Tony. You should have some! Oh, this is so good…”

The sound he made between bites was positively pornographic. Never mind the fact that Tony had spent most of the night bending Peter over backwards and sampling everything the boy had to offer. Tony was sore in the most satisfying way, but Peter didn’t even seem to be phased. If either of them should be having trouble walking, it should be the kid. The fact that he seemed so unaffected only made Tony want to drag him back to the bedroom to make sure he was well and properly fucked. Unfortunately, he was fairly certain the kid was going to be back on that mission of his as soon as he was done devouring breakfast. “Jarvis knows me pretty damn well, Peter. He knows I like you, and I don’t like a lot of people…hence your personal Ihop in my kitchen.”

Peter’s gaze darted up again, his blush darkening and his smile widening. “You like me, huh? And you actually called me by my name…”

“Too weird? I can go back to Beautiful…”

“I mean, that’s nice…I don’t hate it.” Peter drained a small glass of orange juice, as he considered it. “But I kind of like the way you say my name, too. It’s…nice.”

Tony chuckled, producing Peter’s watch from the pocket of his pajama pants. “Picked this up from my lab this morning before you were up. Thought you might want it back.”

Peter reached for it with both hands, grabbing it gently and putting it back on his wrist with a visible sigh of relief. “Yeah…no…thanks. I just…I feel a lot better with it on me, you know? Did…did you get the GPS working at all? Do we know who took the machine? I should really get it back and get home…”

Tony nodded, “To be honest, I don’t think I needed it. Turns out the thieves would have been at the top of my list of suspects either way.”

“Was it Hydra?” Peter sounded nervous, shoving his now empty plate away as he regarded Tony anxiously.

“Hydra? No, Pete, not Hydra. It’s just regular, run of the mill corporate espionage. Oscorp.”

Peter’s blank stare made Tony clear his throat. 

“Norman Osborn? You ever…you ever hear of him?”

Peter shook his head. 

“Huh, well that’s oddly satisfying. The Starks and the Osborns have a long and…dysfunctional past. My father ruined Norman’s father. Almost ruined Oscorp. They lost a fortune and have never really recovered… Norman is a bit older than me. He was at MIT the same time I was but he was a few years ahead and no prodigy. He was big man on campus before I got there. Then I show up and suddenly Norman isn’t the darling of the campus anymore. Not my fault I was smarter, better looking, and a hell of a lot more fun to be around. He took it hard. Tried to compete with me ever since. The fact that he can’t, really, compete with me intellectually or financially or sexually…makes him pretty desperate to best me at any cost. So, he apparently hired some goons to steal from me last night. Probably thought he’d get the upper hand on whatever tech I’m working on in the lab. If you want your machine back, we’re going to have to steal it back from Norman. Good news here is that he’s not that smart…”

Peter nodded resolutely, “Okay, just tell me where his office is and I’ll break…”

“No offense, Gorgeous, but I’ve seen your cat burglaring and it leaves a bit to be desired. I think if you want to get this thing from Norman without destroying the time line or getting yourself arrested…you’re going to have to let me help you on this.”

“No, no way. If you get hurt…”

Tony crossed his arms, lips pressed together in an annoyed frown. “Kid, I’m a weapon’s manufacturer. ‘Merchant of Death’. You think I don’t know how to use a gun? You think I’m some defenseless idiot? I’m far from helpless and you need all the help you can get.”

“I guess if you put it that way…” Peter’s smile was enough to make Tony feel warmer and more alert than his coffee ever would. He placed the empty cup on the counter and skirted it to come up beside Peter. Resting a hand against Peter’s cheek, he gently turned his head and tilted it up enough to allow for a kiss. The taste of maple syrup and coffee lingered between them as tongues danced and pulses rose. 

“Yeah, Baby, I’m going to help you. If I don’t, you’re going to end up languishing in a S.H.I.E.L.D prison cell. I know you must be a great hero in your time, because you’re certainly a terrible criminal in mine.”

Peter’s eyes were still closed, a little smile on his lips as he leaned his face into Tony’s hand. “I think that was a compliment, maybe, right?”

“Something like that.”

“So…does this mean you have a plan?”

Tony stepped back, regarding the younger man with arms crossed contemplatively. “Well, Norman was at the Gala last night. He likely saw me with you. He’s always wanted what I have. We could send you in to seduce him and provide a distraction…” Peter’s laughter interrupted Tony’s planning. The billionaire paused, “What’s so funny?”

“Hi, I’m Peter Parker.” Peter held out his hand as if to shake Tony’s, his voice still full of amusement. “Have we met? I’m…uh…I’m not…I can’t seduce Norman Osborn.”

“You seduced me.”

“Did I, though?”

“Yes, most definitely.”

“Well…you’re not Norman Osborn.”

“Thank God.”

“Tony, we need another plan. One that doesn’t involve me seducing anyone.”

“Not even me?”

Peter smirked. “Not right now?”

Tony gave Peter’s cheek a little pat. “Don’t worry, Sexy, I have a plan B. But first, I’m calling in reinforcements.”

—

“Who’s the kid?”

Peter was perched on the arm of the sofa. Since his ruined tuxedo was no longer appropriate attire, he had been provided with more clothes by Jarvis. The butler had graciously shown Peter to a bathroom where he could take a shower while Tony did ‘damage control’ with Obadiah concerning last night’s security concerns at the gala and Tony’s less than stellar speech to the guests. Peter was surprised that the clothes were brand new, tags still attached. Jarvis clearly had super powers of his own which included accurately gauging clothing size on sight alone. 

Peter had been waiting anxiously for most of the morning to see what Tony’s idea of reinforcements was going to be. In the end, he realized, he should have known exactly who it was going to be. “Colonel Rhodes!” He bounced up immediately all smiles, eager as a puppy the moment the future Iron Patriot stepped into the room and gave him a puzzled once over.

“It’s Airman First Class.” To Peter. Then, to Tony. “Okay, seriously, Tones. Who. Is. The. Kid?”

Tony gave his shoulders a semi-noncommittal shrug. “I suppose if we’re assigning labels I’m going to have to say…my lover?”

“Lover! Is he even legal?” 

“Think so. You are, right?”

Peter pantomimed surprise, looking over his shoulder and around the two men for several seconds before pointing at himself. “Me? Oh, wait, you guys can still see me? Thought for a minute there I was invisible since everyone was talking like I wasn’t here. But no, I mean, yeah, yeah I’m legal. I’m practically an adult.”

One of Tony’s eyebrows rose and he cocked his head at Peter but chose not to question him further. “See, Rhodey, he’s legal.”

Peter stepped forward again, holding out a hand and trying not to look as nervous as he felt. “Peter Parker, Colonel…I mean Airman Rhodes, Sir. It’s an honor. A real honor. I’m a big fan.”

“Yeah, I bet you are.” Rhodey gave his outstretched hand a dubious once over but took it for a quick handshake. “This kid’s a little off, Tony. So, you invite me over to waste my leave bragging about your barely legal sexual conquests, or is there an actual point to all of this?”

Tony chuckled, moving to take a leisurely pose on the sofa, one arm draped across the back of the couch, his legs crossed, head cocked as he considered his friend. “I was robbed last night. Some hired thugs from Oscorp. Lost something pretty valuable to the kid, lost a lot of stuff that was semi-valuable to me. I need to get the kid’s thing back for him and getting my stuff back would be a bonus. I need you to help me do that.”

“You’re not even going to ask me if I’ll help? Can’t even give me the illusion of free will? Is that really too much to ask?”

“And miss your entertaining tirades?”

“Fuck you, Tony. I’m not helping you rob someone.”

“Technically, is it really robbing someone if we’re stealing back something they stole from you in the first place?” Peter had been attempting to help the argument, but from the look that Rhodey gave him, he could tell he hadn’t been successful. Lips pursed in a frown, he settled onto the couch beside Tony and let the older man reach out to draw him in closer until the sides of their bodies were flush against each other and Tony’s arm was wrapped casually around his shoulders.

“God, there’s two of you now.” Rhodey scowled at them both.

“Would it help if I told you the fate of the universe hangs in the balance?” Tony’s tone was serious but apparently Rhodey still did not believe him.

“Not really.” An uncomfortable silence settled over the trio until Rhodey broke it with a groan. “So help me Tony, if you get me court marshaled…”

—

“I’m sorry, Mr. Osborn I told him you were busy all afternoon…” Tony heard the harried voice of the secretary as she rushed into the office trailing on the heals of her boss. Norman Osborn froze in the middle of the office, his chiseled features a mask of indifference, though his ire was belied by the spark of indignation Tony caught in the man’s gaze. “He wouldn’t take no for an answer! He just pushed his way in and wouldn’t leave and told me if I called security that I would be putting Oscorp out of business. I didn’t know what to do…”

“No need to worry, Kayla, Tony and I are old friends.” His tone indicated that this was not the case.

The pretty, young blonde nearly collided with her superior upon his unexpected stop. Drawing to an ungainly halt beside him, teetering once on her stiletto heels, she looked back and forth between the two men with obvious concern. “Should I take notes…”

“No, Kayla, I imagine we will want some privacy to…reminisce about the good old days.”

“And he won’t want any written record of what I’m about to say.” Tony’s posture was calm and cool. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, surveying them both with his typical nonchalance, but his tone was not as calm. There was no faux warmth or friendship there, and Kayla seemed to understand quickly enough that she wanted no part of what was about to take place. She rushed from the room mumbling about holding calls and rescheduling appointments for the afternoon.

Once alone, the two men stared at each other in silence for several seconds like lions sizing each other up before the inevitable throat-biting bout for dominance. It was Tony who broke the silence at last. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out that it was you, Norman?”

“What makes you think I care if you know?” He was bluffing. Tony had actually played high stakes poker with the man more than once since college, and from his own keen observations, he knew that Norman tried to deflect with rhetorical questions in his own misguided attempt to recover control of the conversation whenever he felt outclassed. 

“I could have the authorities beating down your door in seconds. You stole materials Stark Industries was creating for the Defense Department. What were you going to do with them? Sell them back to the Defense Department at an inflated cost…or sell them to someone else all together? I think that might make you a traitor to the country, Norman…”

“Why do you always have to default to being so damn over-dramatic, Stark? Doesn’t it get exhausting for you?”

“I’m known for my incredible stamina, Norman. Ask your ex-fiance, I’m sure she can tell you all about it.” The look on Norman’s face made Tony preen with satisfaction. “I want back what you stole, Norman. All of it. Now. Don’t make me force your hand. You won’t like it.”

“It feels good to know that for once you’re going to know what it’s like to want something you can’t have. And since we have everything out in the open, Stark, who was the man in the suit? My men told me you had an operative of your own in a brightly colored metallic suit who could do a lot of remarkable things.”

Tony tipped his head, a laugh bubbling up from his chest. “Let’s just say my father wasn’t the only one to dabble in the creation of super soldiers, Norman. In fact, it’s funny that you should bring him up. See, you’re about to give me back everything you stole…if you don’t, let me tell you what’s going to happen…”

—

Peter stole a glance at the man beside him, doing his best to look like he belonged as they were led down office corridors. Rhodey, for his part, did not even spare Peter a second glance in his direction. Probably succeeding at playing the superior officer with his assistant much better than the teen was. Peter hadn’t asked Tony how he’d come up with an air force uniform that fit him in such a short amount of time. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, honestly, especially when he took into account the hungry way Tony had looked at him when he’d stepped out in it. “Uniform kink?” Peter’s inquiry had been spoken under his breath when Rhodey was otherwise occupied. Tony had quirked an eyebrow at him, laughed, and answered that he had a ‘Peter kink, apparently’. 

Although the men had argued for quite a bit longer, Rhodey had finally relented and agreed to helping Tony recover his stolen items only because they included some failed prototypes for weapons he was designing for the Defense Department that no one wanted to fall into the hands of Norman Osborn. “What government would court-marshal you for saving the country, Rhodey?” Tony’s argument had been sound, though Rhodey had made his displeasure with the plan known at multiple intervals.

Now, after producing the uniform and watching Tony hack the Defense Department server for the second time in twenty-four hours to provide the necessary false credentials, Peter and Rhodey were on their way to inspect a project Norman was bidding on for the Air Force (against Stark Industries, no less). Just as they’d expected, as the two men were being led into a conference room to await Norman’s arrival, a small blonde secretary came rushing in looking much the worse for wear. 

“I’m so, so sorry, Sirs. Mr. Osborn has been delayed by an unexpected emergency on an unrelated project. I think we’ll need to reschedule the inspection because I don’t know how long he’ll be delayed…”

“What’s more important than a multi-million dollar contract with the armed forces?” Rhodey’s tone was stern and his posture was downright irate. Peter felt sorry for the girl who almost cowered in response. 

“I…I don’t really know. I’m not at liberty to discuss it..”

“I don’t have time to come back or reschedule this inspection. I’ve been informed by my superiors that we’re cutting funding to at least one of the prototypes in development. I have four other manufacturers to visit today, and if all four of them are willing to allow me to tour their labs…do you want to guess which one I’m going to recommend we cut?”

The secretary swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, I don’t know…” 

Rhodey let out an angry sigh. “I’m going to go call my superiors.”

Peter almost laughed at the design of the cell phone Rhodey produced to use for that phone call. He’d very nearly asked to examine it on the way to Oscorp, but thought better of it when Rhodey had given him a withering glare the moment he opened his mouth to speak. As Rhodey made his call, to Jarvis and not his superior officers, Peter did as Tony had instructed him to do and walked over to provide the girl with a little comfort. She was clearly shaken and it was impossible for Peter not to feel genuinely bad for her. “I’m sorry. He can be a jerk sometimes.”

“Yeah, I know all about jerks.” She sniffled a little, rubbing the back of her hand over her nose. “I’m Kayla.”

“Peter.”

She gave him a weak smile, her gaze flicking over him a few times before he noticed a little blush starting around her cheeks.

“Kayla…um…well…I know this is a big deal and that people could lose their jobs if the project gets canceled, so can’t you just show us the labs? We have clearance, you know that from the DoD.”

“I’m really not supposed to. I only have clearance to make deliveries and inquiries for Mr. Osborn. I’m not allowed to touch anything or speak to the scientists so I don’t think I’m allowed to take people in there, either.”

“Did he say you couldn’t take us in there?”

“Well…no…”

“And you can get in the labs?”

“Well, yeah.” Kayla let out a long sigh. “I guess I could. Mr. Osborn would be mad, but if I save the funding for the project…he can’t be that mad, can he?”

This part of the plan had been extremely difficult for Peter to swallow. He didn’t like the idea of getting anyone fired, and he liked it less now that he’d met her. Kayla seemed like a nice person who worked for a really shitty megalomaniac and Peter using her and getting her fired even in an effort to save the universe did not feel entirely justified. In the end, it had been Tony’s assurances that he would find her a job at Stark Industries working for someone who would not treat her like garbage that had alleviated Peter’s concerns enough to follow Tony’s instructions.

As Rhodey walked back into the room with a dire expression on his face, Kayla appeared to come to a decision of her own. “Uh…Sir…Mr. Osborn is going to be busy for most of the afternoon, but I can show you to our labs. I just need to get Mr. Osborn’s permission…”

Rhodey shook his head emphatically, “If you can’t manage to get us into those labs now, Miss, without wasting any more of our time by trying to get Mr. Osborn’s permission…than you can consider this project terminated.”

Kayla looked at Peter, the fear in her eyes making the teenager’s stomach twist in discomfort. He just had to keep telling himself that she was going to enjoy her new job more than this one. Finally, the girl nodded and led them out of the conference room and further into the recesses of the office building.

Ambiguously decorated hallways with carpeting, unobtrusive wall hangings and periodic doorways gave way to spartan white corridors with harsh florescent lighting and security keypads at every door. Kayla seemed to know exactly where they were going and punched in a sixteen digit code before waving them inside. Several scientists looked up from their work, one of them a man that Peter swore he recognized from the burglary the night before. “Mr. Osborn has given these men permission to tour the facilities…” As Kayla explained the situation to the scientists, Peter slipped the remote from his pocket and pressed the first button. Overhead, the lights flickered into a brown out.

Step One was complete. In five minutes, they moved to Step Two.

—

“As we speak, my super soldier has already infiltrated your labs downstairs. I wonder if you even know what you stole from me last night, Norman? One of those failed prototypes was an EMP for the Air Force. It failed because they wanted something localized, pinpoint accuracy. My prototype was going to take out a whole city block if it was deployed. And you have it downstairs. In your lab. Something that could destroy every circuit board in this building. Something that could probably destroy you.” Tony paused as the lights around them flickered into a brownout. The kid’s timing really was impeccable.

Tony held up a single finger to point to the overhead lights. “That. That means the device has been armed. You have ten minutes to give my men everything you stole last night or they’re going to detonate the EMP. Then, you can kiss your company goodbye. You will have finally managed to do something your father couldn’t…completely destroy your company.”

Norman’s face was bright red, there was a subtle movement at his jaw that indicated that the man was gnashing his teeth in frustration. His red-rimmed eyes moved from the man in front of him to the browned out lights and back again. 

Tony wasn’t bluffing. He was completely prepared to destroy Oscorp and Norman Osborn with it. Honestly, he had hoped he would get the chance to do just that. It had been Peter’s insistence that they couldn’t put that many people out of work to settle an old college rivalry. The kid had a point, and he had convinced Tony to give the man a fighting chance. Despite his better judgment, Tony had agreed.

On his desk, Norman’s computer began to emit a loud beeping noise and the man let out a powerful line of curses. He skirted the desk, bracing his hands on either side of the keyboard as he leaned forward to examine the screen. Tony didn’t need to follow him to know what he’d find. Just because the prototype Norman had stolen hadn’t worked, didn’t mean Tony didn’t get the EMP working. He’d placed a small, fully operational version of the device on the underside of Norman’s desk shortly before the man arrived. The tiny remote, concealed in Tony’s hand, had allowed him to detonate the device and wipe Norman’s computer. It was now a very expensive paperweight and nothing more. All of Norman’s attempts to re-activate it were useless. 

“Fine. Fine. Take your pieces of junk and go, Stark. None of them were worth my time anyway.” He picked up the phone on the desk and dialed a three digit number. “It’s Norman. Wrap up what we took last night. I’m bringing someone downstairs to pick it up…Yes, all of the hardware. I know…just do what I say!” He hung up the phone angrily and turned on Stark. “Follow me. Once you have what you came for, I want you out.”

“Believe me, Norman, as hard as it’s going to be to leave you and your winning personality behind, I’ll find a way.”

—

As Rhodey made a show of examining projects and schematics, Peter paced around the room seemingly bored by the entire affair. In reality, he was laying charges. As Tony had put it, they needed an insurance policy if they wanted to make it out of the building unscathed. This was their insurance policy.

Peter laid the final charge and returned to Rhodey’s side. “Sir, we need to be on our way to the next inspection by 1100 hours.”

Rhodey paused, glancing at his watch. “Yes, we do. I think we’ve seen enough here. You can tell Mr. Osborn that the DoD will be in touch regarding funding.”

—

Happy Hogan had joined Tony in Oscorp after being summoned from the car outside. The man seemed to be taking well to his new post as personal security and was only too happy to accompany Tony to recover the stolen weaponry from the labs. 

There was a crate identical to the one from the night before waiting in the lab when they arrived and though it seemed somewhat cumbersome, Happy insisted that he could carry it out without a problem. Once back in the corridor, making their way back the way they’d come, a door opened to their immediate left and Tony turned in time to see Peter, Rhodey, and the secretary exiting another lab. Norman saw them too, a deep scowl appearing on his face as he recognized his own secretary. “Kayla, what…”

It all happened very quickly. Tony heard the familiar thwip thwip of webbing and smiled at the sight of Norman Osborn securely fastened to the neighboring wall. Peter was in the process of apologizing profusely to Kayla, who was only secured by a single arm to the wall opposite. Tony had to admit that Peter’s concern for a girl he had only just met was both endearing…and jealousy-inducing.

“You’re going to give me and my associates time to get out of the building, Norman. If anyone follows us, we will destroy all of our ongoing projects and data in a single blow. If you contact anyone about our little arrangement here today, audio of our conversations and video of last night’s robbery will be leaked to the press. If you think you can use the charges I left behind to reverse engineer them and use them for Oscorp…think again. I know how you think, Norman, and the charges will self destruct as soon as we’re clear of the building. I want to pretend this didn’t happen. You want to pretend this didn’t happen. No reason we can’t both have what we want.”

Norman opened his mouth to speak, but his words were muffled by a new shot of webbing and a bratty grin from the teenager that went straight to Tony’s pants. “I think Tony laid things out pretty well.” 

Tony gave Peter a little wink of approval and gestured to the crate. “You want to use those superpowers of yours to help Happy get that crate out of here before we push our luck too far, Beautiful?”

—

“This? This is what the Old Man sent you back in time to retrieve? This is what’s supposed to save the universe? This?”

Peter followed Tony’s gaze to the machine the teenager was holding reverently in his hands. The first thing they’d done upon arriving back at Tony’s home from their heist at Oscorp was look for the machine Peter had been desperately trying to retrieve since he arrived in this time. He’d pulled out and been shocked by Tony’s quick, and less than satisfactory reaction to it. His large brown eyes had grown wider at Tony’s incredulous tone and he tugged his bottom lip between his lips nervously. “Yes…” The word was drawn out, breathy and uncertain.

The other man let out a long and dramatic sigh, “Peter…What did he tell you about this thing?”

“That it’s broken and after I get it back to the present, we’ll have to fix it. He was going to help me. He can talk to me when I’m sleeping. In REM. He was going to talk me through fixing it…”

“Peter,” Tony reached out, plucking the machine from his hands and giving it a little shake that rang a squeal of dismay from the teenager’s lips. “This thing isn’t broken. It never worked. At best, it’s pseudo science and at worst…it’s complete science fiction. My father called it the Nullifier. He had these theories that he could create a machine that would condense energy into a solid form. He wanted to put this thing at the heart of a nuclear explosion and absorb the energy of the blast back into…something less dangerous than plutonium or uranium. He never got it to work the way he wanted it to. He never liked to admit he was wrong so he shelved the project and determined that he’d go back to it at a later date…but he never did because it never worked. I threw it in the incinerator because there was no reason to pursue it.”

“You’re wrong.” Peter’s heart was hammering so loudly in his chest that he was certain that Tony could hear it. He was worried and frightened, but he didn’t believe Tony. Not for a single second. “Mr. Stark would never send me here for something that wasn’t going to work. He must know how to make it work. He’s going to help me fix it and we’re going to save the universe.”

“It’s cute that you trust him that much. Adorable. Makes me jealous as hell of my own damn self, but he was lying, Peter. Lying or stupidly optimistic. He can’t talk you through fixing the Nullifer in 90 minutes of REM a night. Even if it was possible to make this thing work, and I promise you that it’s not, it would require days, weeks, maybe months of hard calculations, trial and error, testing and retesting to get this thing working the way you want it to work. If the universe of 2023 has an expiration date, I’m afraid you’d hit it long before you managed to make this thing work…”

There was a long and awkward silence in which Peter stared at the Nullifer and looked as if he was on the verge of tears. He didn’t believe that Mr. Stark would send him on a fool’s errand. There had to be more to the Nullifer than Tony thought, and if fixing the Nullifer during REM wasn’t possible, than there had to be another way. 

“Not if I stayed here.” Tony was making sense, but perhaps not the kind of sense that he was hoping to make. Peter’s mind was spinning with the implications, because Tony was right. If the machine was as far from working order as he suggested, than he didn’t have enough time to fix it in the present and Mr. Stark wasn’t going to have enough time to help him through it. “If I stayed here until it was fixed, I’d have days, weeks, months, as much as time as we needed to make the Nullifer operational.”

“Woah, woah, wait a minute there, Bud. We? When did this become a ‘we’ situation?” Tony had both hands up, palms out as if trying to talk down a gunman.

“You’re right, Mr. Stark won’t have enough time to help me with the Nullifier. But you do and you’re almost as smart as he is…”

“Kid, let’s get one thing straight right now. I’m a hell of a lot smarter than the Old Man. My brain cells are still sharp, his are probably dying off by the dozens. He’s already senile. Probably why he sent you back here to recover a useless hunk of junk to save the universe. I’m sure if the Nullifier could actually work, I could get it there a lot faster than that old bag of bones ever could. I can do anything he can do, only I can do it faster and with a lot more style.”

Peter was laughing despite himself. Only Tony Stark would feel the need to compete with himself. “Only one way to prove that. Do it. Help me.”

Tony froze, squinting one eye at the other man and pursing his lips in a lopsided frown. “You think you can trick me into heroism, Peter Parker? You think you can bat your eyelashes at me and convince me to put my company and my current projects on hold to embark on pointless alchemy with a time traveling spider?”

“Yes.”

A long pause. “Fine. But you’re going to reward me with sex…and anything else I want while we do this, you hear me? I’m not the Old Man. I don’t want to save the universe, but I do want you. So we make a trade. You get the use of my brain, and I get the use of your body…”

Peter was already blushing at the thought. “I mean…it’s a sacrifice, for sure, but for the good of the universe…I can probably swing it.”


	7. To Show You What You Need to Live

Tony Stark had long ago learned to live independently. From boarding school as a child to MIT as a teenager to working for his family’s Fortune 500 company as an adult, he had rarely been coddled and had taught himself how to survive without many close personal attachments, depending only upon himself, and never allowing sentimentality to consume him. He could count those for whom he deeply cared on a single hand: Edwin Jarvis, James Rhodes, and (before her death) Maria Stark. The rest of the billions of people on the Earth? He never expected much more from them than a fleeting night’s entertainment and debauchery or more money to pad his already over-inflated bank account.

The last thing that Tony Stark ever anticipated was how easily Peter Parker seemed to fit into that life of self-imposed solitude. Perhaps some of that could be accredited to Peter’s familiarity with the Old Man. Peter was not as easily offended by Tony’s peculiarities because, no doubt, the Old Man hadn’t grown out of all of them. He laughed at Tony’s dry wit. He blushed at Tony’s flirtations. He called Tony out on his shit and somehow instinctively had a sixth sense about when to stand his ground and when to back down to Tony’s mercurial temper. It was like being with someone he’d known for years, and there were times when he had to consciously remind himself that they’d actually met only a short time ago.

It was likely that the Old Man kept his lab organized in a similar way to Tony’s, more because Tony was a creature of habit than because there was any tried or true system to it. Even decades into the past, that had to be how Peter seemed so at ease in the area of Tony’s home in which he had always felt the most comfortable and in control. But it wasn’t just the lab. It was everything else, too.

There were no breakfast buffets after that first morning, but there was always some manner of breakfast food waiting for them when they woke up. Eggs and bacon. Waffles. Pancakes. Muffins. Something. Peter playfully teased and cajoled Tony into taking at least a few bites of food, sometimes even serving him up a small plate with his morning coffee with the insistence that “even a brain as amazing as the great Tony Stark’s needs fuel.” As much as Tony pretended to hate it, there was some long-buried and never-recognized part of him that was happy to have someone who cared about his morning caloric intake. It had been such a very long time since someone had tried to take care of him, someone who wasn’t on his payroll and was genuinely concerned about him because of an emotional fondness and not a monetary need, at any rate. It felt much nicer than he was ever going to be willing to admit to anyone. Even when he didn’t feel like eating, he always caved in and ate at least a few bites of whatever Peter was offering him. It was only to pacify the kid, he told himself, but if he was being honest…he might become more of a breakfast person if his mornings were going to stay like this forever. But they weren’t. That’s what he had to keep telling himself.

After breakfast, if Stark Industries could do without their CEO, the two men were off to Tony’s home lab. The first time he’d showed Peter the lab, he had genuinely hoped for a bigger reaction. Peter was not nearly as impressed as he would have hoped, but…Tony had to remind himself that he was still competing against that ridiculous Old Man who had the benefit of 21st Century technology and several decades of trial and error that Tony had yet to experience. Of course the Old Man’s lab was going to be shinier and more impressive. Of course Peter wasn’t going to ‘ooo’ and ‘awww’ over technology that he likely found woefully outdated and comical. Tony wasn’t bitter about that. At least…not much. To his credit, Peter seemed genuinely taken with Dum-E and U. He greeted them like old friends…and they probably were, come to think of it. If it was possible, the robots seemed equally enamored by the kid. Though, as Tony watched Peter giggle and duck Dum-E’s awkwardly swinging appendage, the inventor wondered if there was anyone who wasn’t charmed by the spiderling within minutes of meeting him. How did he fight crime in the future? How did all of the criminals not just turn themselves in at the prospect of causing that boy an ounce of harm? How had the Old Man not become an authoritarian dictator imposing martial law on New York City just to keep the crime rate down and make sure that Peter Parker never encountered anything more dangerous than lost tourists and purse thieves? 

Peter felt responsible for the Old Man’s death. It wasn’t so hard for Tony to imagine that he’d died for Peter. Protecting him. Saving him. Guaranteeing him a future of rainbows and unicorns. Not that Tony would ever do anything like that himself. He could just…understand where the Old Man might have become more sentimental as senility and infirmity crept up on him. Tony Stark was a self-centered piece of shit…one who choked down unwanted breakfast food every morning just to watch Peter’s face light up with triumph and joy over his small victory.

Fuck.

The lab work was as grueling as Tony had warned that it would be. Fixing the Nullifer was an impossible task. There were six glass boards erected on wheels around the lab, all of them covered in colorful, erasably marked equations as Tony and Peter broke the Nullifer down to the bare bones theories Howard Stark had hypothesized when creating it. There were parts strewn across several work tables. Blue prints and schematics pinned to walls, taped to floors… 

Though he would never say as much out loud, Tony was impressed by Peter. His grasp of theoretical physics was remarkable for a kid without a college degree. Though there were times that Peter needed him to break down the truly advanced parts of a few of the equations, Peter was quick to grasp the concepts once they were explained and proved unafraid to voice his own ideas and theories. He wasn’t just beautiful, sexy, and brave, he was also smart enough to carry on a scientific conversation with Tony without being left behind…and without boring the inventor. That, in and of itself, was astounding. Much to his own chagrin, Tony found himself hauling out other projects, theories, concepts, prototypes…explaining them all to Peter with a touch more eagerness than his self-respect preferred and taking in the boy’s praise or suggestions like he was starving for it. 

They always broke for lunch when the sound of Peter’s stomach rumbling became too distracting, taking whatever fare Jarvis had prepared for them back to the lab so they could eat and work at the same time…though they rarely did. The ‘picnics’ as Peter called them were usually spent discussing things other than the Nullifer, mostly because Peter insisted that it was important to give the brain time to process things subconsciously. Tony did have to admit that more often than not, after they’d spent all of lunch arguing over who the best Star Wars characters were while seated in the only clean part of the lab (a six foot square section of floor in the left center) there was some kind of small ‘eureka’ moment that led them down a new path. It was never the right path, but he had warned Peter that he thought the Nullifer could never actually be fixed. It certainly wasn’t like, as days passed, Tony was hoping he was right and that stupid machine was broken well into their old age. Because that wasn’t true. Or at least, he’d never admit it. Even to himself.

It was somewhat distressing how little Stark Industries seemed to actually need their CEO around. Tony suspected that Obie was probably still shouldering a lot of the workload, and since he had no desire to dip his toes into the bureaucratic side of the company…he didn’t feel much like stopping him. Every time he mentioned Obadiah’s name, Peter would imperceptibly tense up and change the subject. It was suspicious, but Tony tried to write it all off as a mutual dislike between the men. After all, when Tony’s presence had finally been demanded in the office, he’d taken Peter with him to show him around the company…and Obie had been less than welcoming to the young man.

Dinner was mostly delivery, eaten in front of the television, the two men seated closely together on the sofa or the floor in front of the coffee table. Peter had a deep appreciation for cinema, one that Tony found both endearing and a little obnoxious every time he referred to a recent release as a ‘really old movie.’ “You’re going to be a really sexy corpse if you say that one more time, Peter.”

Peter gave Tony a sidelong glance attempting an innocent smile and a dismissive shrug. “You’re the one who calls my Tony ‘Old Man’ whenever you’re referring to him.”

Tony felt his jaw clench ever so slightly at Peter’s choice of words. He sucked in a slow breath through his nose, letting it escape in a sigh as he pushed the nearly empty Chinese takeout container away. Suddenly, he wasn’t hungry anymore. “You know, from what little you’ve told me about the guy…I don’t get why you still think he was ever ‘yours’.”

Peter froze, staring down at his own food. Perhaps Tony had said too much. He wasn’t jealous of the guy and he hardly wanted Peter to think he was. There was just some part of him that was very frustrated by Peter always referring to the Old Man as ‘his Tony’. “No…yeah…you’re right. He’s not mine. Never was. He’s just…just Mr. Stark. I won’t call him ‘my Tony’ anymore. I’m sorry…if it…you know.”

Fuck. 

The kid even knew him well enough not to go any further with his apology or his excuses. Tony had never imagined how amazingly frustrating it would be to have someone like Peter around. No, not someone like Peter. Peter. There couldn’t be anyone else like Peter, not in all of time and space.

—

“What’s this?” Peter had been rooting around in Tony’s drawers trying to find a spare tube of lubricant. They were out, something he’d only just discovered when he was trying to prepare to seduce the older man when he finished with his late-night conference call with the Japanese investors. Instead of finding spare lube, he’d stumbled upon a worn children’s chapter book tucked away in the bottom drawer of Tony’s bedside table.

Tony froze inside the doorway. His face was unreadable, but there was a hint of something uncomfortable in his dark eyes. “A book.”

“Yeah, I figured that part out. I mean…why do you have it?”

“It was a gift.”

“From?”

“My mother.”

“Oh.” Peter’s hand fell to his lap, still holding onto the book. Suddenly, he felt bad about bringing it up. Although they had both lost their parents, it was something neither of them had talked about to any profound extent. Peter barely remembered his parents, and for Tony that loss was only a few years old. Peter could sympathize and avoided the topic unless Tony brought it up. He felt the mattress shift as Tony sat down beside him. The billionaire was staring at his hands, remarkably quiet for someone who always enjoyed talking so much. “You don’t have to say anything else.” Peter felt the need to make sure Tony knew he was all right with the silence. “I…I understand.”

Tony nodded his head slowly. “Yeah, Beautiful, I know you understand…That’s why…” He fell silent, his words cut off by a melodramatic sigh. “She gave it to me when I was little. It was my favorite book growing up.”

Peter looked down at the battered dust jacket and smiled. The Story of King Arthur and His Knights by Howard Pyle. “This makes so much sense.” It added a whole new layer to Iron Man that Peter had never even considered. He could just imagine a tiny Tony Stark pretending to be a knight…only to grow up and save the universe as a futuristic knight of sorts. 

“Oh yeah?” Tony turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow, wondering at what part of his future could have anything to do with a book about the Round Table and chivalry. “Well, I’m glad. I guess.” He was quiet again for several seconds before he reached out to gingerly take the book from Peter’s hands and begin leafing through it. “When my mother wasn’t busy being a trophy wife, dragged off by my father to all corners of the world…she’d always come to my room to read me one of these. Sometimes it was the only time I got to spend with her. Being raised by nannies isn’t all that Hollywood makes it out to be.” He grimaced, closing the book again. “I loved those story times. Everything about them. Falling asleep to the sound of reading. Dreaming about the stories. Spent most of my very limited innocent years playing Knight and pretending to be a hero. Then my father decided I was too soft, that I need to learn to be more independent. Shipped me off to boarding school a half a world away when I was seven and I only saw my parents on holidays after that. If I was lucky. I don’t think we ever actually finished reading that book…”

Peter’s throat felt tight as he swallowed, lifting a hand to rub at his eye self consciously, attempting to wipe away the dampness there before Tony saw it. 

Only he did.

Peter could tell by the way Tony’s expression seemed to soften, the way he stared at Peter as if he was only just seeing him for the first time. The teenager tried to smile, rubbing at his eyes again before Tony reached out to capture his wrists, gently pull his hands away from his face and bridge the distance between them.

Peter could never remember Tony kissing him quite so gently before. There was a tenderness to the brush of lips that took the young man’s breath away. When Tony dropped his wrist and lifted a hand to gently stroke the side of Peter’s face, the boy felt tingly all over. “Umm…we’re…we’re out of lube.”

Tony paused, ceasing the gentle succession of feather soft kisses he’d been pressing to Peter’s lips as he stroked his cheek with a calloused thumb. A little laugh escaped him and he rested his forehead against Peter’s. “Way to kill the mood, Parker.”

“I’m sorry! We could…I don’t know…go without it?”

“Nah, we’ll get some tomorrow. Tonight…let’s try something else tonight.”

Peter’s gaze was wary, but he nodded, afraid of what sexual escapades they might be about to embark on…right up until the moment Tony made himself comfortable in the bed and pulled Peter into his side. Wait. Was Tony Stark actually cuddling? On purpose? Of his own choice? Instead of sex? Without sex? Cuddling? Peter couldn’t help himself, he was grinning like a fool and only too happy to snuggle in as close to Tony as he was allowed.

“What knight did you pretend to be?”

“What?” Tony’s words were muffled by his position, nose buried in Peter’s chestnut curls. “What knight…Arthur, of course. Had to be the king, didn’t I? My ego wouldn’t tolerate anything less. Why? Which knight do you think I am?”

Peter considered this for several minutes, running his fingers on a slow track up and down Tony’s clothed chest. “Lancelot. I think you’re way more a Lancelot. Flashy and sexy. The best knight, but also…controversial and tragic.”

Tony pulled back enough to look at him. “Damn, kid, you make me really curious about my life between now and then. What the hell happens to me? Who the hell is this Old Man, anyway?”

“Earth’s greatest defender.”

“No shit?”

“No shit.” The silence lingered between them, but it wasn’t a bad quiet. Peter was happy to rest in the comfort of Tony’s arm, tucked against his side, head resting on his chest. It was Tony who finally broke the silence in the most unexpected of ways. “Do we start at the beginning or where my mother and I last left off?” He held up the book with his free hand.

Peter just stared at him in awe. Was he actually suggesting what Peter thought he was suggesting? Somehow, the idea of cuddling with Tony in his bed reading his favorite book, a gift from his dead mother, a book he’d abandoned along with his innocence well over a decade ago…was the most intimate thing Peter had ever heard. He felt so humbled, so honored, so happy, that he was blinking tears out of his eyes again. “Better start at the beginning. I don’t think the story of King Arthur has a happy ending.”

“The best stories never do, Sweetheart.”

—

“We’re going to dinner.”

Peter looked up from the circuit board he was bent over, setting it aside to look at Tony incredulously. “We’re what?”

“We’re going out. We’ve been cooped up inside for weeks. It’s time I took you somewhere nice. So…go shower, change, whatever. We’re going to my favorite restaurant.”

Peter couldn’t even try to hide his delight at the prospect. They were going on an actual date. If he’d thought that periodic cuddles and stories with Tony were wonderful, than a dinner date with the man of his dreams was more than he’d ever hoped for. He didn’t even care if Tony saw him running to their room to shower and change.

After a little less than an hour, Peter was pleased with the way he looked. He’d tried to tame his curls and tie his tie just right. The suit Jarvis had picked up for him ‘just in case’ he happened to need it was precisely the right size. Then again, with Jarvis, everything was always perfect. Peter had never thought that the AI would come up short in comparison to the real man. Even Vision had nothing on this guy.

At last, content and more than ready for dinner, he decided to leave the master bath and go in search of Tony who he discovered entering the bedroom in search of him.

The two men froze in their respective doorways, speaking simultaneously in mirrored exclamations of surprise and indignation. “What are you wearing?”

A long pause.

“You said you were taking me to dinner.” Peter looked down at the suit and tie he’d donned, suddenly feeling very self conscious about his choice of attire compared to the jeans and band t-shirt Tony was wearing.

“Where exactly did you think we were eating, Tavern on the Green?”

“I mean…you’re a billionaire.”

“So that means I eat nothing but cavier for every meal then, huh?”

Peter looked genuinely puzzled. “Don’t you?”

Tony crossed his arms and regarded the younger man with an eyebrow raised questioningly. “You claim to know me so well, Pete. What’s my favorite food? Hm? Is it Foie Gras?”

Another long pause. “No, its Cheeseburgers.”

“Bravo!” Tony gave Peter an over-exaggerated round of applause. “There’s the boy genius I know and love!”

The words hung between them for several seconds as both men realized what he’d said, albeit accidentally. Peter’s face broke out in a slow grin that very nearly split his head in two, while for the first time in recorded history, Peter assumed, Tony actually blushed. He cleared his throat, opened his mouth to speak, and remained speechless. Another first for the billionaire by Peter’s estimation.

“No fair taking it back.” Peter’s warning was spoken so softly that it barely carried to Tony’s ears. The billionaire sucked in a slow breath and shrugged as if to say that he had no intention of taking it back, or acknowledging that it had ever happened. 

“You’re not changing your clothes, Kid. You’re eating in the suit. Come on. I’m hungry and I’m tired of waiting.”

“No, but…I don’t want to eat cheeseburgers in a suit, Tony. I’ll look stupid.” Peter’s high-pitched pleading echoed around them as they made their way through the penthouse and finally to the garage. Tony sauntered to one of his cars, smirking at the kid as he slid into the driver’s seat. 

“Get in or starve, Beautiful.”

“Mr. Jarvis would never let me starve.”

“Did I say you were going to be starving for food, Beautiful?” Tony’s gaze dipped meaningfully and Peter turned a deep shade of red. 

“Yeah, okay…I guess…I guess I can eat a cheeseburger in a suit.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Peter fidgeted the whole ride, feeling incredibly self conscious and over dressed. More so when he saw where they were going to be eating. Tony led the way into the tiny diner, greeting the middle-aged server and the line cook visible through a small pass-through into the kitchen. He knew their names. Apparently, he was a regular.

“You look pretty young to be a lawyer.”

Peter looked up at the woman whose name was apparently ‘Lorraine’. “Oh no, I’m…I’m not a lawyer.”

“You don’t say…never see men in here in a suit unless they’re lawyers. You just a fancy dresser, then, huh?”

“Um…yeah?” Peter glanced down at the napkin wrapped silverware she’d placed in front of him and smirked at the sight of what appeared to be grease on the spoon. Good thing he didn’t need silverware to eat a burger.

“What are you and your fancy man getting today, Tony?”

Tony raised an eyebrow at Peter, gesturing to the menu. Peter, however, just shook his head. “Just…double whatever you usually get.”

“Well, Lorraine, you heard the man.”

“Hey, Charlie, you hear all that? I need two Dead Cows wearing Yellow Blankets, two orders of Frog Sticks and we need ‘em Stark Naked.”

Peter couldn’t help but snort as he tried to hold in his laughter.

“Be right back with the shakes, Dear.” Lorraine departed the table with a wink, unused menus stashed under her arm.

Peter took the time to look around the diner now that they were alone. It was old, but despite the literal greasy spoon, appeared to be clean. There were a few other diners, but everyone seemed to be minding their own business. Every booth had a tiny juke box sitting against the wall, and with nothing else to look at, Peter was happy to slide along the seat and take a closer look at the music selection. “Oh wow, there’s some great really old music on this thing, did you bring change?”

“Of course.” Tony laughed. “Gotta have quarters for the jukebox and the pinball. It’s part of the place’s charm.”

“There’s pinball, too!” Peter craned his neck to find the game.

“It’s by the bathrooms. I’ll challenge you to a few games after we eat. Only fair warning you though, Beautiful, I’ve had the High Score on it for well over a year.”

“That’s really going to suck for you when I beat you tonight, then.” 

The burgers were surprisingly good. Juicy, covered in gooey melted cheese, grilled onions, lettuce, pickle, tomato and some kind of ‘special sauce’ that Peter swore was just ketchup, mustard and mayo mixed together. The milkshakes were thick, the fries were salty, and Peter was quick to declare it his new favorite burger joint in New York. He even managed to beat Tony’s high score on pinball and preened with pride the entire way home while he listened to Tony grumble about a promised re-match.

As it turned out, the diner became a familiar haunt for them. Several times a week after working late in the lab, they’d wind up in ‘their’ booth. While they started out on opposite sides, after a couple of weeks, Tony just began sliding into the seat beside Peter, settling an arm around his shoulders, speaking softly into his ear, stealing french fries from his plate. 

—

Tony couldn’t believe that he had to hear about Peter’s bithday from Jarvis. That hurt. Far more than it should have. The butler had shared the somewhat troubling exchange in which Peter had debated whether it was possible to have a birthday before someone was officially born. Jarvis now thought Peter was utterly insane, but still seemed to like the kid. It was impossible not to.

What did you do for your lover on his pre-Birthday? They couldn’t have a party. Peter had no one to invite and that was just going to be depressing. He couldn’t give Peter a physical gift because he’d never be able to take it with him when he left. If Tony ever let him leave, anyway. A trip was out of the question, Peter would balk about being away from the Nullifier for that long. He could convince the boy to take a few hours off, but more than a day…that was never going to happen. Never mind that they’d already been at the job of repairing it for months.

The answer came to him quite unexpectedly, but it really was perfect. It was going to be expensive. It was going to take time, but Tony had both.

August tenth, after breakfast, Tony convinced Peter to take the morning off, though he said nothing about Peter’s birthday. Not yet. Peter didn’t suspect anything until Tony pulled his sports car into a parking spot at a lot for Forest Park in Queens. Only then did the teenager pivot in his seat to fix Tony with a questioning look. His confusion clear on his face.

“Happy B-day Peter!”

Peter just stared at him. “Uh…thanks. I guess.”

He clearly had no idea why Tony had brought him to Forest Park, but that was all going to become clear in a moment. “I couldn’t think of what to do to make this special. Thought a lot about it. Had a lot of crazy ideas. Settled on this one. So…Peter, are you ready to meet your very much alive and breathing parents?”

If Peter looked surprised now, Tony was sure that finding out they were S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents was going to be a real Kodak moment.


	8. I Really Want to Know

Peter was panicking. Tony could tell by the look on his pretty face. He was excited, vibrating in his seat, but the size of his eyes and the shallow breaths he was drawing into his lungs suggested that Peter didn’t know if he was allowed to be excited about meeting his parents or terrified of the ramifications. “What…what about the timeline? What if I screw up the future by meeting them? What if they don’t like me?”

“Peter, you’re the most lovable person I’ve ever met.” 

Shit. 

He’d done it again, and Peter’s smile had taken on that same, ridiculous, dopey quality it always did when Tony slipped and found himself subconsciously using the ‘l’ word. Tony chose to ignore it. “There’s no way they’re not going to like you. As for the timeline…you gonna warn them about their future deaths or introduce yourself to them as their future son?”

“Well, no…”

“Then, I think we’ll be fine. There have got to be some perks to time travel, Pete, and if meeting your parents who you barely remember isn’t one of ‘em, than I refuse to ever invent it. There goes your timeline, then, right?”

Peter’s eyes suddenly seemed to darken. “Yeah, then I’m as good as dusty again.”

Tony paused as he tried to decipher that statement. Clearly, it was a comment he was not supposed to understand, but something in the way that Peter said it and the slight tremor in his voice had set off alarm bells in Tony’s brain. Something very bad had happened to Peter, and even the vague idea of it was enough to send Tony’s blood pressure skyrocketing.

Fuck.

He really had to get a handle on this.

“Good, so, it’s settled, Beautiful. Operation Meet the Parents is a go. But before we go off and make some memories, there’s a few things we need to go over. Just for the sake of full disclosure.” Tony shifted in his seat to give Peter his full attention. It had not been easy to get Peter to open up about his parents so that Tony could go about locating them. It had required Tony to share quite a bit about his own as well. In the end, it was worth it, and completely necessary for Peter’s present…but it had also been painful. Never mind the fact that Peter now knew things about his relationship with Howard and Maria that no other living person had ever heard him say. Not even Jarvis. Now, however, he had the wonderful task of telling Peter that most of what he thought he knew about Richard and Mary…was wrong. “You said your parents worked for the government. Couriers, I think, right?”

“That’s what Uncle Ben said, yeah.”

“And your dad was in the army.”

“Yes…why?” Peter looked so bewildered, it made Tony’s heart clench.

The billionaire cleared his throat. “Yeah…see. About that. Your father’s military record is full of holes. I can find his enlistment information, a record of his additional training in special forces and then…big fat nothing. His activity is so black ops, there’s no digital record of it. Do you know how clandestine that shit has to be for the government to be afraid to leave an electronic footprint for any of it?”

Peter was completely motionless in his seat. He wasn’t speaking. Wasn’t moving. Wasn’t even fucking breathing. He was just staring at Tony like he’d been physically frozen.

“Peter?”

Nothing.

“Baby?”

Still nothing.

“Did I break you? If I was going to break you, I was really thinking it was going to be in the bedroom…”

Not even a response to that.

Damn.

Tony grimaced, but continued. “So…uh…he served under a friend of ours. Nick Fury. Remember him from the gala…”

“Nick Fucking Fury knew my dad!” Peter had almost launched himself into the windshield at that piece of information. His reaction and the strong language were so unexpected that Tony cracked his head on the roof of the sports car from jumping in his seat. 

“Fuck, kid.” He was going to have a lump, not that Tony was too concerned about that when he saw Peter’s reaction. 

Peter was actually shaking. At least his hands were. “You don’t understand, Tony. I know him. In the future. You know him too. Everyone knows him…even my dad, apparently. And Mr. Fury never said anything. Nothing. How could he not say anything? He has to know who my dad is. There’s no way he doesn’t know…”

“My best guess? He hasn’t said anything because he had something to do with why they died and he doesn’t want to have that awkward conversation.”

Peter was back to sitting completely still again. “Tony…what are you leaving out?”

He was almost afraid to go on, but there really was no going back now. “Last year, your father was recruited into S.H.I.E.L.D. by his former C.O…Fury. He’s been an active field agent ever since. Your mother…she was recruited into S.H.I.E.L.D. right out of college…”

“My mom is a secret agent too!” Peter fell back in the car seat, hands covering his face with a small, muffled moan.

“Kind of…she’s actually where you get your smarts. She’s an up and coming star in the science division, if what I found through a bit of hacking is any indication.”

Peter was peaking through his fingers now. “She is?”

“Oh yeah, genius level smart for sure. Tech. Forensics. She does it all…”

“That’s…Ben and May never mentioned that.”

“I’m not sure they knew, Peter.”

Slowly, the teenager sat back up, smiling just a little. “So my mom’s smart and my dad’s a hero…”

“The spider doesn’t fall far from the tree.” Tony couldn’t help but smirk at the flush that began to climb the teen’s cheeks.

“Uh…so…what…are we doing here?” Peter made a broad gesture at the park beyond the car.

“Ah, yes, well…we lucked out, actually. I was really worried I wouldn’t be able to come up with a good way for our paths to intersect. But, according to my PI…your parents are having their wedding rehearsal here this morning. So, I’m hoping we can find a reason to…be friendly.”

“I’m actually famous for how friendly I am.” Peter was bouncing in his seat again. “So…they’re getting married soon, then.”

“In a couple of days, yeah.”

“Wow, this is…this is nuts. I…don’t even know what to say, Tony. I never thought…I mean they’re names. To me they’ve just always been names. And pictures. Videos. Not people. Not to me. Not really. No real memories. Just…flat. And now they’re going to be real. I never thought they’d ever feel real… This means…it means a lot to me.” Tony was startled to see the kid actually blinking back tears. 

Scrubbing a hand over his jaw, Tony tried to shrug the display of emotion off. “It was nothing, really. Just something I thought you’d enjoy…”

“Thank you.” Peter’s voice was actually choked up now and there were full fledged tears and Tony was at a loss for what to do so he just gave an awkward smile.

“I’d do anything for you, Beautiful.”

“I know.” He did? “And you don’t…you don’t have to actually say it, Tony, you know? Cause I know…it’s hard for you…and you do things like this…which are honestly just as good. I don’t know if I’m allowed to say it, either, but this once…cause it’s my birthday and you did all of this for me…” Peter’s rambling drifted off for a moment. Some part of Tony actually hoped the kid was going to drop it there, but he didn’t. “And I just want to say that I love you, too.”

Well, fuck.

He’d gone and said it and that tiny thread of denial Tony had been clinging to snapped.

He could actually feel himself falling. Right up until that moment he’d thought ‘falling in love’ was a euphemism. But, nope. He felt the impact to the depths of his soul. Despite this, Tony did his best to sound unaffected, but he could tell from the sparkle in Peter’s eyes that the kid caught the sudden thickness to Tony’s voice, the slight stutter before he found his words again. “Al…alright, Peter, enough of that. We have a wedding rehearsal to crash.”

—

Peter could hardly believe it was really happening. He was going to talk to his parents. Maybe get to shake their hands. He’d be able to hear their voices and their laughs and their personalities and he’d never, ever have to wonder what they were really like ever again. Not only that, but the things he’d learned about them already! His father was practically James Bond! How cool was that? Ned was going to lose his mind! And his mom, his mom was smart. If his dad was James Bond than his mom was totally Q and that might actually be even more impressive to Ned. Peter figured his ‘guy in the chair’ was probably going to be way more excited about Peter’s Mom being the ‘woman in the lab’. It was all so awesome, so unbelievable that he had absolutely no words to explain to Tony just how much this whole thing meant to him.

As the two men made their way from their car to the wedding venue, Peter casually let his fingers graze Tony’s hand, his gaze darting over to look for some reaction from the older man. Tony raised an eyebrow, rolling his eyes playfully before he took Peter’s hand in his own and gave it a little squeeze. “You’re so lucky it’s your birthday, Parker.”

“Nah, I’m just lucky period.” Peter would have never considered himself a lucky guy before. In fact, he’d always thought the ‘Parker Luck’ was always more on the bad side of things…but maybe luck could change because ever since he’d found himself in the middle of that ballroom being visually devoured by a young Tony Stark, he’d been the luckiest guy on the planet.

“Look alive, Kid.” Tony gave his hand another squeeze and gestured with a nod of his head towards the lone figure a few yards ahead.

No doubt to Tony he was still indistinct, but Peter’s senses were quite a bit more acute. He could see the man with crystal clarity and just the sight of him sent Peter’s heart into excitement induced arrhythmias. “Oh my God, it’s really him.” The man from the pictures. His dad.

Richard Parker was of average height and leanly muscled with dark hair that appeared to bear the hint of Peter’s curls underneath the thick layer of styling gel that was struggling to hold it in place. Peter had always thought he looked more like his mother, but he caught subtle pieces of Richard that reminded him of his own reflection now that he was looking at the man in the flesh.

Apparently, Richard had also seen them approaching. Brow furrowed questioningly, he waited for them to come closer before he called out. “Good morning. This is a far cry from Manhattan, Mr. Stark.”

Tony chuckled beside Peter, dropping the boy’s hand. “I hope we’re not disturbing anything, had an appointment to check out the Park and thought I’d get here a little early to look at things without an audience. Are you Mr. Seston?”

“No, my fiance and I are having our wedding rehearsal here this morning…or we were supposed to. The girls were stranded and my brother had to save them.” He glanced at his watch. “I’m afraid we may not have time to run through everything if you have an appointment with Seston, soon.”

Tony made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “I don’t want my appointment to interfere with your wedding. You probably got the whole song and dance when you booked this place, right? Why don’t you walk us around, then you can take your time with your rehearsal.”

Richard looked surprised by the generous offer. Actually, Peter was too. “That’s awfully kind of you, Mr. Stark. I’m Richard Parker.” He held out his hand which Tony took in a firm handshake before Richard turned his attention to Peter. He held out that same hand again and Peter suddenly felt overwhelmed. He meant to take the man’s hand. He really did, but some embarrassing instinct took over and before he realized what he was doing, he had wrapped his father in a tight embrace that had the man stuttering in a very familiar way. “Uh…well…okay…um…you’re…you’re pretty friendly, aren’t you?”

“He’s famous for it, actually.” Tony’s sardonic tone snapped Peter back into reality. Pushing back with a deep flush, Peter looked up at his father as he stepped back and the man spoke a sentence that made him wish he was dead.

“Yes, I know, he was extremely friendly at your gala.”

“Wuh…” In the fraction of a second, Peter went from a scarlet flush to a sickly pale hue at the implications. “You…you were…you were there?”

“Yeah…don’t worry if you don’t recognize me. You two seemed busy…”

Peter staggered backward into a tree, bracing himself against the trunk with one hand as he doubled over and tried not to revisit his birthday breakfast all over the grass at the implication of his father watching him bite the buttons off of Tony’s shirt.

“Is he okay, Mr. Stark?” 

“Peter? Yeah, he’s fine.” Tony was clearly trying to cover for him, though even Tony’s voice seemed a little strained at that unexpected development. 

“I admit, I was a little worried about you, Peter. Mr. Stark doesn’t have the best reputation…but clearly if you two are out looking at wedding venues, I didn’t need to worry about him taking advantage of you.”

“What?” Peter heard Tony echo his words as he straightened up to give his father his full attention. 

“Oh no, we’re not…” Tony was chuckling nervously, a little too nervously.

“No, no no no no…definitely not.” Peter was shaking his head vigorously, a bit of color returning to his face.

“Definitely not?” Tony stressed the word definitely with an eyebrow cocked in a demi-scowl. “Kid, you’re breaking my heart. I think five ‘no’s’ was enough without the definitely.”

“Ah come on, Tony, you know I didn’t mean it like that! It’s only been four months and it’s not like you’re going to actually try to marry me or something so stop embarrassing me in front of my fa…new friend…” Oh God that was close. It was also really freaking lame.

Richard appeared to be well and truly amused. “Follow me, I’ll show you two around.” Tony let Peter walk beside Richard as the man began to lead them around the wedding venue. He was clearly trying to remember what he’d been told about the features, but gave up when he realized that neither one of them was really paying attention at all. “I don’t think I caught you’re full name, Peter.”

“Parker.” The word left his mouth before he’d even thought better of it. A fraction of a second later he felt Tony elbow his side subtly and let out a grunt of annoyance.

“Really?” Richard chuckled. “Small world, I guess. That a Queens accent I detect, too?”

Peter could only nod dumbly. He was saved from further embarrassment by the sound of approaching footsteps. “Oh, I think your wife’s here!”

It was several awkward minutes before two women and a man crested the hill.

Peter felt his heart stop again.

Ben.

He hadn’t realized until that exact moment that he was going to get to see Ben again, too. Oh, and young May. It was Peter’s turn to elbow Tony in the side when he caught Tony checking May out. His annoyance was forgotten, though, as his gaze moved to his mom.

His mom!

Yeah, Peter was now utterly convinced that he looked a great deal more like his mother than he did his father. He was only a little taller than her. Same chestnut hair, same honey-brown eyes. There features were even similar. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one who noticed, because Tony was looking back and forth between the two of them with an amused expression on his face. 

“Baby, did you make friends while we were gone?” Mary took Richard’s arm and rose on her toes to plant a little kiss on his cheek as she surveyed Tony and Peter. “Oh…one of them is a billionaire! In that case, bravo, Richie. I should abandon you in public parks more often.”

Richard was chuckling, shaking his head and staring down at her with such a mixture of affection and exasperation that it took Peter’s breath away. It might also, kind of, maybe, but not really, but maybe kind of, remind him of the look he caught Tony giving him every once in a while in the lab when the billionaire thought Peter wasn’t looking in his direction. “Mary, Sweetheart, this is Tony Stark and Peter Parker.”

“Really?” Peter thought her giggle even kind of sounded like a little like his laugh. He had no idea he had his mother’s laugh! Before he knew what was happening, he was being drawn into a hug. “That means we’re practically family Peter!” His mother’s voice so close to his ear that it sent shivers down his spine as he held onto her and breathed in the scent of her perfume. Lilies and Amber. He was never going to be able to smell Lilies and Amber again without thinking of her…and that was so wonderful the thought brought tears to his eyes.

“Looks like you’re not the only hugger here, Beautiful.” Peter could read the subtext in Tony’s eyes as he was forced to separate from his mother’s hug. Apparently being friendly was also a family trait. His parents were just…they were awesome. They were perfect in every conceivable way!

They were shown around the rest of the venue, Mary holding onto Peter’s arm and walking ahead of them, pointing out all of her favorite parts. “And I adore all of the natural flora, it was what made me choose the park. We could save a lot of money on flowers this way.”

“And I agreed, because with fronds like these, who needs anemones?” Richard was quick to join in from Mary’s other side.

Peter let out a snort followed by a laugh that had his father grinning in delight. “See, Mary, someone likes my jokes!”

Peter heard twin moans coming from May and Ben’s directions. “Don’t worry, Richard, my chemistry jokes never get a reaction either.”

Mary swatted Peter’s arm. “Oh, Peter, that was terrible…don’t encourage him or we’ll never hear the end of his jokes!”

“Oh my God, as if one wasn’t enough, now there’s two of them!” Ben’s teasing was good natured, something so familiar to Peter that without even thinking about it, he turned around to stick his tongue out at the man.

“Are we sure he’s not an actual Parker? No brother separated at birth or something?” May’s voice this time. “If not…you may just have to keep the kid. He fits right in with the both of you.”

Ben seemed to be considering May’s suggestion a little too seriously, and for a moment Peter felt his pulse race. “Can’t keep me, May. I think Tony would miss me too much.”

“Couldn’t live without you, Gorgeous.” To Peter’s ears, that sounded almost a little too sincere.

“We’ll have to keep them both then.” Mary gave Peter’s arm a little squeeze. “You two really must stay for the rehearsal and then join us for lunch. Nothing beats wedding jitters quite like lovely distractions.”

“Oh, you don’t really want us there..” Peter could see the look of alarm on Tony’s face as he tried to make excuses. Maybe he was reconsidering his birthday gift after all. 

Too bad. Peter wasn’t going to give up time with his parents, now.

“Oh, we’ll definitely stay!” Peter was quick to interrupt Tony. What was the man thinking? They’d gone to all of this trouble to get Peter memories with his parents, and now that his parents both seemed to want them around, Tony was trying to back out? “I mean, we don’t have anything else to do really. And it’s my birthday, so…”

“It’s your birthday!” Mary grabbed his arm again. “Well now we have two things to celebrate, a wedding and a birthday, and we’re not taking no for an answer!”

The rehearsal was short and before long the six of them were seated around a table at a little Italian restaurant near the park. It was very early in the afternoon and the lunch rush hadn’t started yet, so they had most of the place to themselves.

Peter was only too happy to quiz his parents on everything from how they’d first met to how Richard had proposed and what they’re plans for the future were.

“Oh we want kids desperately.” Mary’s expression looked just a little haunted for a moment and May reached out to give her hand a little squeeze. Peter’s head cocked questioningly at the gesture and Richard cleared his throat. “Mary had a few health problems when she was younger. They could…make it difficult for her to conceive. But, like I told her…we won’t know until we try…”

Peter had never known that. He’d never stopped to think about his parents’ age or how long they’d been married…or even Ben and May’s age come to think of it. “Yeah…you…you really shouldn’t give up. Nothing’s impossible unless you accept that it’s impossible.”

“Are you sure he’s not a Parker-Parker? That sounds just like one of your Parkerisms…like the responsibility schtick of yours Ben.” May was using a breadstick as a pointer, leveling one end at Peter. “He’s a cousin or something, I’m telling you!”

Tony cleared his throat loudly, “So, did I hear someone say you were writing your own vows?”

“Oh yes! We only just decided to do that last week, but I really do not want to promise to ‘obey’ Richard because that’s one promise I’m definitely going to break.” Mary smirked at them over her glass of wine. “Actually…maybe we could use you as a test audience? Make sure they’re just mushy enough without being too over-the-top? I’ll just run off to the little girl’s room for a minute and let Richard give you a taste of his and then we’ll trade. It’d be good for us to practice that too, and you two don’t mind, do you?”

“I’d love to hear them!” Peter was probably a little too enthusiastic about hearing a stranger’s wedding vows, but no one seemed surprised by his excitement at this stage and Tony was quick to echo the sentiment, even if he wasn’t quite as flamboyant about it.

Richard, on the other, looked nervous as he plucked the folded piece of paper from his wallet and cleared his throat about a half a dozen times. “All right, well, here it goes. I love you Mary Fitzpatrick. More than anything else in this world. I promise to give you every beat of my heart, every breath from my lungs. Even when there’s distance between us, nothing will ever separate us because you’re a part of me. The best part. I don’t want to kill for you or die for you, Mary, I want to live for you and I promise that every day of my life, no matter what it holds, will be spent with you, for you, and beside you until the day it ends.”

“That’s really awesome. And poetic. I think she’ll love that!” Peter was blinking away tears, clutching Tony’s hand under the table. When he hazarded a glance at the other man, Peter was surprised by the look on his face. Tony appeared…thoughtful. Distant. Perhaps even troubled by Richard’s words. He met Peter’s gaze and offered a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

A few minutes passed and positions were changed. Now, Mary prepared to recite her vows from memory while Richard hid in the bathroom.

“Richard Parker…you are the bravest, kindest, most honorable man I have ever known. I know that marriage isn’t easy and that life can be hard. I know that our careers may make it even harder, but I don’t care. My love for you is strong enough to conquer anything. Nothing will ever separate us. Not money. Not health. Not time. The universe itself could try to push us apart, and I would just push right back…because I promise to fight for you, Richard. I will fight for you and our love and our marriage…and someday, our family, because you’ve taught me that together we’re a force to be reckoned with. Together, there’s absolutely nothing that can stop us, that’s my promise to you.”

“Oh wow…Mary. That’s just..that’s really awesome! I don’t think you should be nervous about that at all.”

“Thank you, Peter, I’m sure if you like it that Richard will. You two do seem to have similar tastes, don’t you?”

“Yeah…I guess so.” Another glance at Tony and Peter was perplexed to see a grim set to Tony’s jaw and that same distant look as he stared down into his wine glass. He had no idea what the man was thinking, but a part of Peter was a little worried about it.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. They parted with promises to meet for drinks after the Parkers returned from their honeymoon and with May demanding some information about Peter’s family so she could delve into his genealogy and prove that he was related to Richard and Ben. Peter had to keep repeating that he didn’t have a family or any access to his genealogy much to May’s chagrin.

Peter got a parting hug from the entire Parker clan, ending with Ben who held onto his shoulder after they separated. His voice was soft as he spoke to Peter, gaze trained on Tony as he exchanged numbers with Richard and mary. “Is that Stark fella good to you, Son? I know he has a reputation and you said you don’t have a family…”

“Yeah…no…yeah, he’s great. It’s not like the tabloids make it out to be, Ben. He cares about me…”

“Well, I want you to take our number and address, Son. If something happens, if someday he’s not and you need help or somewhere to go or even just an ear or a ride or a bus ticket…you call us, okay? You may not be family, but you’re a good kid and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I thought you were going to get into trouble because you had no one to help you out.”

Peter blinked back tears and surged forward for another hug. “You’re a good man, Ben. Probably the best man I’ve ever known. I just…I want to make sure you know that before I go, okay? That I just…I want to be half the guy you are someday. Thank you…for everything…and I’ll definitely call you if something happens and I need help. I promise…don’t worry about me.”

—

Tony was remarkably quiet for the rest of the day, though he did try to make sure that the rest of Peter’s birthday was celebratory. It was only when they were laying in bed that night that Tony was finally able to gather his thoughts into something coherent and tangible. “Peter…”  
,   
The teenager stirred slightly. He hadn’t been asleep, but he had been blissfully relaxed, cuddled close to Tony’s chest lost in the blissful afterglow of steamy sex followed by a hot shower and the soft, languid touches that had become common place between them several months ago. He had only just stopped assuring Tony that this had been the best birthday of his entire life. The movement of Peter’s hand stopped at the sound of Tony’s voice, palm pressed flat against Tony’s chest as he propped himself up on an elbow to look the older man in the eye. “Yes?”

“I need you to tell me the truth.”

“I always do, Tony.”

Tony shifted, dislodging Peter and sitting up against the headboard. He scrubbed his hands across his face several times before he tried again. “I need you to tell me the truth about the future.”

“What?” Peter was sitting up in a moment, brown eyes wide with horror and disbelief. “I can’t! Tony, I can’t. The timeline…”

“The timeline is fucked, Peter. Don’t tell me you haven’t realized that. You’ve been here too long. You’ve changed too much. About me. You’ve changed too much about me.”

“I…I have?”

“You have.” He steadied himself with a deep breath, brushing the backs of his fingers along Peter’s jawline. “Baby, you’re right, I…I love you and I’m not going to be able to let you go. The Nullifier…we’re close. Baby, we’re a hell of a lot closer than I’ve been letting on, and I need to know what happens. I need to know how the Old Man becomes the hero you say he is. Your parents…they made me realize some things. I’m not giving in. We’re not giving in. I’m not accepting any outcome that doesn’t have you and me together at the end. I’m taking a page from Richard and Mary Parker. I’m fighting for you, living for you, all of it. You’re going to tell me everything. Everything, Peter. And then you’re going to trust me to fight for you because you and me…we’re endgame now, whether the universe likes it or not.”


	9. Tell it to Me Slowly

At first, Tony did not interrupt. He wanted to commit every detail to memory, determined to learn where his future self had made mistakes and thereby avoid them completely. He sat in stoic silence as Peter described everything he knew about Tony Stark’s life leading up to his capture by the Ten Rings and torture in Afghanistan. It was a little sobering to hear Peter describing a lifestyle that was not entirely dissimilar to the one he’d been living right up to the gala where he’d first encountered Peter. For some reason, he didn’t feel the same level of pride he used to feel at the use of the word ‘playboy’, and though Peter didn’t actually call him a jerk…because the kid would never, Tony got the distinct impression that everyone else in his life would probably choose that word first.

Tony’s expression grew grim, darker and darker by degrees as Peter described his capture, his injury, and the operation performed by Yinsen to save him. He found himself absently running a hand over his breast bone, flinching at the thought of the cavity that peter was describing, the small arc reactor. Brow furrowed, leaning forward across the bed with a new intensity, he drank up the description of that first suit. He had to bite back a grin at the thought and remind himself that he needed to hear the rest of his future before he ran off to the lab to try to duplicate the armor Peter was describing. 

It was good, really, that Peter had been such a huge fan of Tony Stark since he was a child. He knew much more about Tony’s life than the average person from the 21st Century would have. It made that familiar flare of jealousy flash through him, clenching his heart and making his throat feel obstructed. He had to remind himself that the Old Man had just been training wheels to get him ready for the real deal. He had pure, unadulterated Tony Stark now. He didn’t need the old, watered down version anymore.

The betrayal of Obadiah Stane hit Tony like a physical blow, leaving him breathless and pale and clasping his hands into fists in his lap. Sure, maybe Tony had depended on him just a little too much when it came to Stark Industries…apparently if he was going to be helping with the day to day operations all the way into the 21st century. It was everything Tony could do not to immediately have the man removed from Stark Industries and detained for whatever crime he could prove and any he could frame him for…because he was guilty. If not now, he would be soon enough. At the moment, though, he wanted to hear more about his future than he wanted to put a stop to Stane. For now.

The interruptions began with the birth of Iron Man. Tony began to ask questions about the suit, about the heavy metal poisoning, about the Old Man’s escapades, his upgrades, and his enemies. He was annoyed at the reappearance of Captain America. “Oh, God, really? That guy didn’t die, after all? Too bad dear old dad bit the big one before he got to see Steve Rogers back from the dead. He had such a hard-on for that guy. I personally don’t see it.”

“Oh yeah, you’d never go for a super-powered goody-two-shoes on a mission to save the world, huh?” Peter’s sarcasm was laced with a fair amount of self awareness that made the whole thing amusingly ironic. 

Tony just scowled back at him. “Please, Captain America is boring, and you, Beautiful, are anything but. Now, back to the bedtime story, you little brat.”

The Avengers and the Battle of New York drew more interruptions. Tony was a bit confused at the mention of Norse Gods and Incredible Hulks and, “21st Century Robin Hood sounds very counter-productive. You really telling me he didn’t die on the first mission cause…that’s the most surprising thing you’ve told me so far.”

“Mr. Barton is pretty cool, Tony. I mean…I don’t get the bow and arrow thing either, but it works for him. And he’s got a sword now, which is also cool…”

“I don’t know if a sword is an evolution or a devolution, honestly.”

The wormhole drew a long sigh from Tony’s lips. He pressed his fingers hard against his closed eyes and shook his head slowly. “So, the Old Man…He just…I mean I get it. I really didn’t know I had a latent Messiah complex, but I get it. But that…that’s not where he died, huh? Cause I didn’t hear any mention of you in that story. Which means the Messiah Complex is an ongoing thing. I blame Howard and the Captain America lectures. I put no stock in psychology, but if I did…yeah, totally Howard’s fault.”

Peter just shook his head grimly and plunged on. Extremis perked Tony’s interest more than it appeared Peter liked. The kid seemed to be trying his damnedest to gloss over it…though those efforts were in vain. Tony would be revisiting that particular piece of technology at some point very soon.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Tony’s exasperation was palpable. “You’re telling me he blew up all of the Iron Man suits for the girl? Seriously?”

“He loved Ms. Potts.”

“Well, if Ms. Potts loved him she’d have accepted that the Iron Man thing was important to him.”

“It’s not like it lasted long, Mr. Stark rebuilt them…”

“Good.”

Ultron drew a string of curses, all of them directed at his older self. “I mean, sure, the concept sounds valid enough…but clearly the Old Man had forgotten all of the Asimov he’d devoured as a kid. Basic Science Fiction folly, right there.” Old Age was going to make him stupid. Well, not stupid. No matter what, no iteration of Tony Stark could or would ever be stupid…but he could definitely lose a few IQ points.

The Accords and ‘Civil War’ had Tony once more sitting in silence. “Okay, it’s not that I don’t get it. Cause I do. If it were you…I’d do the same damn thing he did for the Winter Soldier guy…but…pretending that it was about the Accords and the world government so he could get the other goody-goody’s on his side…that’s the kind of self-righteous idiocy I honestly expect from that guy. That they were all too stupid to see through it is really disappointing, honestly. I hate that he’s every bit as holier than though as I always thought he was. Ugh. To fracture the Avengers just so he can save his friend…that’s so selfish that even I’m calling bullshit and you know it has to be bad, then right? Why does the world think this guy is so awesome, again? Ugh. I’ve never even met him and I hate him.”

“He’s not that bad…”

“No, he’s worse. Keep going, though.”

He sat up a little straighter when Peter entered the story. Lips twitching in a smile at their first meeting, at the account of the battle on the tarmac. “Ha! You stole Captain America’s shield? Kid, if I didn’t already love you…I’d sure as shit love you now. The only thing I regret from the last six months is not seeing you kick more ass. Honestly, Sweetheart, you’re a fucking bad ass and I find it so damn sexy. When all of this is said and done, I’m going to figure out that Old Man’s armor and we’re going to have some fun making this world a safer place…cause I have got to watch you work.”

Peter turned a dozen shades of crimson, but his smile was very pleased. “I’d like that.”

But first, they had to continue with the future history lesson. Tony’s good humor was forgotten as Peter continued to tell his tale. He gave the kid credit, though, he didn’t mince any words in the telling.

“So you had an entire fucking building dropped on you and fought some whack job on a moving plane in a pair of sweats because the Old Man was teaching you a lesson? About what? Responsibility? That’s a riot. You’re the most responsible person I’ve ever met. Maybe if he didn’t have his head up his ass, ignoring your calls, sending you to middle management…Peter, seriously, the future is fucked. I am not going to become this guy. I don’t even think I like him.”

“I don’t think Mr. Stark liked himself very much, either, to be honest…so that actually…kind of makes sense. But, you know, you’re not being fair to him. He made a lot of mistakes, but he did a lot of things right, too. Having a building dropped on me sucked, but it taught me a lot. It was a lesson I needed to learn, honestly.”

“If you say so…”

“I do. I do say so.”

They had to take a break before Peter delved into their trip to space and battle on Titan. Tony poured him a glass of scotch that he sipped in silence whenever the story became too much for him. Tony didn’t say a word at all until Peter haltingly described what it was like to vanish. Tony could do absolutely nothing to keep the tears from falling. The idea of losing Peter was the worst thing he could think of, and though he didn’t much care for the Old Man or his methods…he knew that some part of him clearly cared for the kid. Watching him vanish…that had to be soul shattering. “The future is fucked, Peter, because I’m not letting any of this happen to you. None of it.” The promises were spoken through gritted teeth, a vein in his throat bulging at the sheer intensity of his determination.

Peter just gave a sad smile, “Too late. Already happened. Even if we change the future…I don’t think you can get rid of my memories, Tony. Besides, if it hadn’t been me than it would have been someone else…maybe someone with kids or something. I didn’t…I didn’t miss a lot when I was blipped out of existence. May and MJ and Ned, they all blipped too. Other people…they probably missed a lot,or they would have. I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t want to stay if it meant someone else had to go in my place.”

“God, kid, forget too good for me, you’re too fucking good for this world.” God, he loved the way Peter blushed when he got the compliment just right…

It was Peter’s turn to cry as he recounted what happened to the Old Man in the five years that Peter missed, about his marriage to Ms. Potts and his daughter, about the invention of time travel and the hunt for the stones, about Peter’s return and the final battle against Thanos. “I’ve never…talked about this with anyone. May tried to get me to…and Happy…but I just…they wouldn’t understand.”

By the end, Peter was on Tony’s lap, tucked against his chest, head resting on his shoulder as he cried and Tony whispered soothing words in his ear. “It’s okay, Baby. You can cry if you want to. Long as you want to. Cry. Scream. Whatever makes you feel better. I got you.” 

“Still think I’m a bad ass?” Peter’s voice was stuffy and muffled against his chest, but Tony heard him clearly enough.

“You’re the toughest, bravest, most amazing person, Peter. So good. Best person I’ve ever known. Dad always thought Steve Rogers was the best a man could be, but that was because he never met you. Steve Rogers volunteered for everything that was done to him. He signed up for it. You? You had it thrust on you, accepted all of this responsibility that should have never been put on you…and you just carried it. Gracefully. You’re the definition of the word hero, Peter Parker.”

Peter let out a muffled laugh that turned into a sob that devolved into him clinging to Tony like his life depended on it.

Gently stroking a hand through the boy’s curls, Tony continued to whisper into his hair. “The Old Man needed to be tortured and almost killed to want to become Iron Man, but all I needed to do was meet you. You understand that, Beautiful? The future, my future, is going to be better because you’re in it. You’re the missing piece. My missing piece. Honestly, I feel sorry for the Old Man. He had to go through his entire life never knowing what it felt like to be whole…”

—

Work continued on the Nullifier. Tony was right, for once they did appear to be making headway. After two more months of intense work. Two months of Tony secretly trying to compose a plan to keep the two of them together despite whatever these Stones might do to rip them apart. Two months of Tony sketching plans for that armor whenever he thought Peter wasn’t paying close attention to him. Two months of them savoring every moment together as they both secretly believed that it might be their last. When the final simulations came back successful, there was nothing to do but stand in front of the computer and let the realization soak in.

“So that’s it. We…fixed it.”

Tony gave the boy a sidelong glance, noting that he had not even attempted to hide his disappointment about that. “Guess so.”

“So…it’s probably over, then. Tonight…he’ll probably come and he’ll…take me away.” Peter had his arms wrapped around his stomach, his tone grim, his face pale. The sight was like a dagger to Tony’s heart.

“Hey,” He turned around, tugging Peter closer and embracing him tightly. “What did I tell you, Beautiful?”

“You’re gonna fight…”

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course, but…”

“Nope,” He tilted Peter’s head up for a kiss. “If you trust me, then trust me.”

“Do you…do you have a plan?”

“Don’t worry about that.”

“So, no, you don’t.”

Tony just chuckled, “Baby, my plan is to stay with you, okay? Don’t know how I’m going to do that yet, but I will. When opportunity presents itself, I will. We just fixed a machine that should have never worked, Kid. We did something I thought was impossible six months ago. Next to that…defying all of space and time to be together is going to be a cake walk. Promise.”

But that night, when the two men were finally able to drift off to sleep, it was not Peter who found himself face to face with Tony Stark and the Infinity Stones. 

Not Peter at all.

There was no mistaking him. It was like looking in a mirror. An older, but no less attractive reflection of his own face staring back at him. With a grimace of righteous fury, Tony charged the distance between them and threw a mean right hook directly into the other man’s face. Too bad it was a dream and he wasn’t real, because there was nothing Tony wanted to see more than a black eye on that old, handsome face.

“What kind of sadomasochistic bullshit is this, Old Man? Was this your plan all along? You put the kid right in my fucking path. Line of sight. I couldn’t miss him, even if I wanted to. And you knew! You knew he had a thing for you all those years, you knew I wouldn’t be able to fucking resist that beautiful, perfect boy. You determined to finally get to fuck the kid one way or another? Was that plan? Well guess what? You monumentally fucked up…which, given your history is par for the fucking course with you, isn’t it? Cause I love that kid. I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But I love him. For Peter…to keep him, I’d do anything. I will do anything. You and your fucking magical stones don’t have to give me a happy ending with him because I’m going to fucking take it myself and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“Are you done?” God, was it possible to hate even the sound of your own voice? Tony scowled at the older man, at the sarcasm and the irreverence in his tone.

“You’re a piece of shit, Old Man.”

“Yes, I am.”

“I hate you.”

“Self hatred is nothing new to us, Kid. You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Except I won’t, because I’m never becoming you.”

“We’ll see.” The Old Man crossed his arms, eyebrow cocked, waiting in the silence. When Tony didn’t venture to fill it with anymore bile, he continued. “The Nullifier is done, so now we need to use it. Peter can’t do that alone. It’s too dangerous. He’s going to need back up.” As Tony inhaled, the Old Man held up a hand to silence him. “Let me finish. He needs back up, and while I know you think you can be that back up…you can’t. You’re not Iron Man, yet. You’re not Earth’s Greatest Defender, yet. You haven’t fought aliens, yet, and me…I’ve done all of those things. I am all of those things. So, you’re going to let me hijack your body for a field trip to the Heart of the Universe. That way, the Nullifier can be activated, the universe can be saved, and Peter doesn’t have to die in the process. Everyone wins.”

“Like hell! I’ve seen how possession works, Old Man, and I’m not letting you anywhere near me…”

“Than Peter is going to die.”

“What…”

A simple shrug of the shoulders and Tony was exercising a conscious effort not to slug him again. “He does this alone and he dies. Simple as that. No way he can do this and come out the other side unless he has me at his back. You can’t use the armor yet. You don’t know how any of it works and REM is not enough time to teach you.”

“I can…”

“You can’t. Believe me. You can’t. So what’s it going to be, Kid? We’re running short on time here.”

Tony stood in silence, mind spinning. His options did appear to be severely limited, but it was possible…however unlikely, that this was his chance to do the very thing he’d promised Peter he’d do. Outsmarting his older self seemed incredibly unlikely, and from the look in the older man’s eye, there was already a great deal of suspicion between the two of them. Wouldn’t a shrink have a hay day with that? Maybe Tony had more issues than he thought he did? Soft science or not, a therapist might not be a bad thing if he wanted to avoid becoming just like the Old Man in a few decades… “All right, but I have two conditions. No negotiations. I want to remain fully aware and sentient to everything happening around us, complete access to you and what you’re thinking,…and I want a manual override. Just one. So that if at any point I feel like you’re doing something that could get us fucking killed, cause let’s face it…you’re really good at that, than I get to take over and exercise self preservation.”

The Old Man narrowed one eye. “Don’t do something stupid, Kid. You were never meant to meet him. I gave you a gift…”

“You get to keep gifts.”

“Well, you don’t get to keep Peter. He has a life. He has a future. Neither one of those involve us. I’ll give you your awareness and your one manual override, but it won’t do any good. When this is all said and done, you’re going to end up exactly where you belong and that’s not with Peter Parker. You’re right, I did fuck up, I didn’t expect you to fall for him. I thought you were too much of a self-obsessed asshole. My mistake. But Peter is going to back to 2023 and he’s going to become a hell of a hero without us. Either one of us. Keeping him with you in 1992 is not an option. People need him…and in the future, you need to die. It’s literally the only way there is a future. It’s you against me. You against the Stones. You against the Universe. This is one battle you’re going to lose, Kid.”

“We’ll see. I’m not giving up just because you tell me to, Old Man. I’m Tony Fucking Stark, and nobody tells me what I can and cannot do…not even Tony Fucking Stark.” Because the Old Man had given him an idea. Without knowing it, midst his self-righteous sass, he had given Tony the answer to the problem. He’d been looking at things all wrong. The Old Man was right about a lot of things, and that just meant Tony was looking at this the wrong way. With a new outlook on the equation, the answer didn’t seem quite as hopeless. What was it Peter had said to his parents, something about things only being impossible when you stop believing their possible. 

He knew what he had to do now.

He just had to figure out how the hell to do it.

—

Peter stirred in the bed, frowning in his sleep as his hands slipped across the silk sheets in search of the body he was now so used to finding himself tucked alongside in the morning. When he encountered nothing but cold, empty bed, he forced his eyes open and peered around the room blearily. When he spotted the figure in the chair beside the window, his frown only deepened and he pushed himself into a half-seated position, now fully awake. “Tony?”

“Morning, Kid.”

Peter felt a chill prickle down his spine and he instinctively reached to pull the sheet up higher on his chest. “Mr. Stark?” There was no hiding the wariness in his tone.

“Gotta say, Underoos, I much prefer the last greeting to this one.”

“Lot’s happened since then.” Peter’s gaze shifted to the floor beside the bed and he reached out to scoop up Tony’s shirt where it had been haphazardly discarded the night before in the throes of passion. He felt better once he’d slipped it on. A pair of boxers were scavenged from the floor as well and after contorting a little under the sheets, he no longer felt completely vulnerable in his mentor’s presence. “How are you doing this? How are you in Tony’s body? What are you…what are you planning?”

“Baby Stark and I came to an agreement. You need my help to finish this. Neither one of us want you dead, and since you can’t do it without me…here we are.” He made a half-hearted gesture to body he now inhabited. Peter still looked pensive, regarding the man with more than his fair share of mistrust. 

“What…what are we going to do now?”

“Deliver the Nullifier to the Heart of Universe and reconstitute the Stones before the universe ends.”

“Wouldn’t you be better off with someone who’s good at space stuff like Starlord..”

“That guy’s a jackass.”

“Yeah, but he knows space ships and space and aliens…”

“You’re the only one I trust, Kid. It’s you, or no one.”

Peter could no longer say the same. He let out his breath in a little huff and nodded slowly. “Okay…so…why can’t I do this alone?”

“The Heart of the Universe is a dangerous place. It’s where the Infinity Stones were created, where life and the universe began.”

“The Big Bang?”

Mr. Stark nodded solemnly. “We don’t do this just the right way…the energy from the Stones manages to pierce the Heart of the Universe and what we get is the opposite of the Big Bang. Universe is over.”

Peter grimaced, “Than why are we using the Nullifier there…”

“Because the energy is almost there…and the space station is the best place to work from…”

“Space station…”

“The Heart of the Universe was discovered thousands of years ago by a race of aliens who called themselves the Celestial Order. They constructed an entire civilization around it’s containment field and spent the last several millenia trying to harness it’s power so that they could force peace upon the universe and dispose of chaos once and for all. They never succeeded in breaching the containment field…which is good for us, because they could have done some serious damage to the universe if they had.”

“Peace doesn’t sound so bad.”

Mr. Stark could only give a wry chuckle. “It never stops at peace, Pete. People always have good intentions, but they always end up giving in to selfish desires…”

“Kinda like you?”

“What did you just say to me, Kid?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, it’s just that…there had to be a better way. Putting me here with him…you had to know how I felt about you. You had to know how I’d feel about him. I just…it’s not fair, is it? Because now I have to decide and, Mr. Stark, I have decided. Hard as it is. I’m staying here. With Tony.”

“Like Hell you are. What about May and Ned, hmm? How are they going to feel if you don’t come home?”

“I’ll come home. I mean, I won’t be dead in 2023, will I? I’d just be…well, I’d be a lot older, but I wouldn’t be dead.” Peter had given this a lot of serious thought. He knew what he wanted and he didn’t intend to take no for an answer…

“And the future? If you’re here with him through all of that the future is fucked.”

“The future is already messed up, Mr. Stark. Tony’s already so much different than you…”

“Is that so? You really think you can change me that much, Peter?” His laughter was actually bitter now. “And what about Morgan?”

That had Peter lapsing into uncomfortable silence. “I…I don’t know…” He’d tried very hard not to think about her, because he couldn’t bear the thought of her not existing and for her to exist…

“You’re going back where you belong, Peter. Back to the future. Whether you like it or not. You don’t get a say in this. It isn’t a choice you get to make. You don’t belong here. You don’t get to be in his life because you were never supposed to be…”

“Than why did you put me here? What good is it going to do to put me back when Tony has already changed?”

“Because Baby Stark won’t have changed, Peter. Not when everything is said and done. As soon as the Stones are reconfigured, as soon as they’ve been properly hidden, they’re going to enact a latent protocol I put into place to make sure the future remains unaffected. The Tony Stark of 1992 is going to have his memory wiped, him and anyone else you had contact with that could alter the course of the future. To Baby Stark, the last six months will have been a blur of sex and drugs and nothing else. When he meets you recruiting for Germany, he’ll have no memory of ever seeing you before. Jarvis, Fury, Happy…no memories of you that could alter the future. It’s like you were never here at all.”

Peter felt as if he had been punched in the gut. He struggled to catch his breath, bracing his elbows against his knees and resting his head in his hands. He didn’t even realize he was crying until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Jerking away from the touch, he shot an angry glare at the man. “You don’t get to touch me. Not looking like that. Not after what you said you’re going to do.”

“I fuck things up, Kid, that’s what I do.”

“You know, I never really believed that until now.”


	10. To Show You Everyone

It wasn’t what he was expecting. But, then again, Tony had only a lifetime of Science Fiction from which to pull any frame of reference for an alien civilization. He had been busy picturing Doctor Who, Star Trek, Star Wars…none of them really prepared him for the real deal.

The Old Man, on the other hand, had seen plenty of aliens, at least from what Tony could see of his memories, glimpsed in stolen flashes as he took in their surroundings. Judging from Peter’s body language, he was just as awestruck and terrified as Tony was…and he’d been to space! There was nothing Tony wanted to do more in that moment than reach out for Peter’s hand, give it a little squeeze of reassurance and remind him that they’d already done the hard part…getting the Nullifier to even work. This was going to be a piece of cake compared to that.

But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t because the Old Man was the pilot and he was the passenger.

The Heart of the Universe was beautiful: an impossibly large orb of light, the golden glow of which seemed to shift and shimmer and dance in a ceaseless movement. It spun and twirled, hovering several feet above the floor perfectly in the center of the cavernous room in which they found themselves by the whims of the Stones. One moment they had been in Tony’s bedroom, and the next…they were standing in an alien space station light years from earth staring at the origin of the Big Bang and the very universe itself.

Even without being in control of his own body, Tony could feel the anger radiating off of Peter. He’d never seen the boy’s beautiful features set in a look of such pure fury before. The fact that it was all for him, well, that made it all the more gratifying. The Old Man, though, he didn’t find it gratifying. There was a calm resignation there, something Tony had difficulty understanding. The Old Man had been expecting it, the fury, had prepared himself for Peter’s anger and was trying to convince himself that it was all for the greater good.

‘Maybe you’re greater good, Old Man, but not ours.’

“Shut up.” It was spoken aloud but softly, directed at Tony’s inner turmoil and not at Peter. If Peter heard, he didn’t react.

No, Peter was transfixed by the Heart of the Universe and Tony was transfixed by Peter. He could see the Heart reflected in the boy’shoney brown eyes. Old or Young, there was no distinction between the past or present version of the billionaire as they stood united in appreciation of just how beautiful the boy looked in the aura of creation itself. If Tony had ever doubted that the Old Man had been secretly harboring feelings for Peter all this time, he had his answer now. The Old Man loved him almost as much as Tony did. Almost.

It was a strange sensation, giving up control of his body to someone else. Tony could see, hear, and sense everything happening around him…but at the same time, every experience seemed to be coming to him dampened, as if he was coming off of a long night of drugs and alcohol…only just beginning to sober up. The Old Man’s thoughts echoed at the fringes of his consciousness, glimpses of memories rippling over him in waves and secondhand emotions washing over him like a warm spring rain. 

There was an anger and a desperation to Tony, now, even more than there had been before. The prospect of losing not only Peter but his memories of their time together was a fate too terrible to contemplate. He had to do something, to find something, but his time was so very limited. It was stranger still to feel something tugging at the edges of his thoughts, an urgency that was not Tony’s but had to come from the Old Man’s mind. An urgency and something else.

Igor Novikov.

The name bounced through Tony’s thoughts again, unbidden, as it had a dozen times since the Old Man’s encounter with Peter…whispered on the subconscious of the parasite controlling Tony’s physical form.

Igor Novikov?

He was a physicist.

Tony recalled reading a paper by the man at some point in the wunderkind’s time at MIT. But what was it about, and why was it so damned important now?

Igor Novikov?

Tony’s thoughts were interrupted by a blaring noise overhead. An alarm.

Peter’s eyes widened as he looked over his shoulder at Tony and the Old Man. “I guess they know we’re here.”

“Guess so.” The Old Man dropped to one knee, resting the Nullifer on the ground in front of him. “Cover me while I get this started. We have to protect the Nullifer until all six stones have been reconstituted. They’ll disappear as they reform to locations I’ve already designated and enact the final protocols when the last Stone is safe. We have to make sure nothing interrupts this process, and we have to make sure that the Celestial Order doesn’t get the Stones.”

“Why?”

“Because we don’t want anyone getting the Stones, Peter. Not ever again.”

Peter just nodded, head swinging towards the sound as the doors to the chamber opened.

‘Holy fuck.’

Tony wanted his body back. 

He wanted it back. 

Needed it back. 

He couldn’t let Peter go up against those things alone.

“He’s not alone, he has me, and I’m a hell of a lot better at this than you are.” The Old Man’s voice had bite, but he also had a point. Tony really only had a rudimentary idea of how this armor worked. Not that he wasn’t already probing the Old Man’s memories for more information about it, not that he wasn’t prepared to fight with nothing but fists and sarcasm if that’s what it took to save Peter…but as much as he hated to admit it, the Old Man was better equipped to keep Peter safe.

“Just relax, Baby Stark, I’ve got this…and you have other things you need to be doing right now. Igor Novikov, kid. Igor Novikov.” 

What the fuck did he care about a quantum physicist when the love of his life was about fight those things?

They were huge. 

Fifteen feet tall at least. Thick limbed and colorless as if they were absorbing the entire spectrum of light making their forms so dark to the eye that it actually hurt to look at them. Their movements were strange, every swing of an arm or movement of a leg followed by a shadowed trail that dissipated slowly behind them.

Tony could hear Peter audibly gulp into the coms. “Yeah, okay, Mr. Stark, keep them busy while you make the Stones. Okay. Got it.”

Tony wanted to watch Peter, but his eyes were trained on the Nullifer and there was nothing he could do to make the Old Man turn away. He heard the boy whoop softly, the sound of something moving by them very quickly, and then a few seconds later a resounding crash from somewhere to the right. Tony cursed internally as he watched the Old Man inputting the data and waited for the machine to whir to life and begin slowly printing the energy it was gathering into a small green gem. Only then did the Old Man look up and afford Tony his first glimpse at the fighting going on around them.

Peter was swinging around the room at a breakneck speed, barely missing a swinging arm, flipping over one of the monster’s heads, sliding gracefully between their legs and then bounding across the room. There were three of those creatures in the room now, and somehow Peter was managing to keep all of their attention trained on him. Anytime one of them would begin to look in Tony’s direction, the kid let out another whooping call and a piece of the room went sailing by the creature’s head. Several pieces of the room’s paneling were already missing and Peter had tugged another piece free in order to chuck it at one of the creatures as it tried to lumber in their direction.

This time as Peter made a dive for the creature, it managed a land a hard blow, knocking Peter backward. He flew through the air, crashing into the invisible barrier around the Heart of the Universe with a popping, burning sound that caused sparks of energy to cascade from his suit in a frightening rain before he collapsed to the ground with a groan.

They had to help him! Why wasn’t the Old Man helping him?

Tony cursed as his gaze left the boy to return to the Nullifer. It shut off, a shimmering gem sitting in the cradle of the machine. It remained there for a moment before it blinked away and the Old Man typed in a new set of algorithms. 

‘Fuck the Stones, help Peter.’

“What do you think I’m trying to do, Baby Stark? This has only ever been about Peter. There were other ways to get this done, but only one where Peter got what he deserved…now get your head out of you ass, Kid, and get to work.”

Peter must have picked himself up off the ground, because Tony could hear the kid fighting again, though somewhat less animatedly as before if the sounds of battle were any indication.

It was only when a piece of the space station’s paneling struck the ground several inches to their left that the Old Man jumped and turned to look over his shoulder.

Peter wasn’t keeping them all occupied anymore. He was trying. Valiantly. But it wasn’t working and they were now lobbing discarded pieces of ship at Peter and Tony. They had Three Stones done now, the machine was working on the fourth. They had to hold them at bay a little longer but Tony greatly doubted that Peter was going to be able to keep this up much longer.

“I know.” The faceplate came down, obstructing Tony’s view for a moment before the computerized displays took over. 

“What can you tell me about these guys, Friday?”

“Boss, initial readings suggest that they’re composed of densely packed energy contained around a biological nucleus with an electromagnetic epidermis.”

‘What the fuck?’

“Aliens.” The Old Man grunted, “Just when you think you’ve seen it all…” He shook his head, firing up the Repulsors in his gauntlets. 

‘Woah, Old Man, wait…’

Before Tony could even finish thinking his warning, the Old Man had fired a shot at the approaching behemoth. It struck but seemed to have no ill effect. Instead, the alien appeared to absorb the energy and midst the flow of surging darkness, a single strip of familiar white light spun through it’s body before it collected in the creature’s hand and shot back at them.

‘Yeah, don’t shoot energy at energy monsters. I’m not an alien expert, but even I know that.’

What was worse, perhaps, was the swirling white energy that began to take shape on the skin of all three monsters. Apparently, it only took a taste for them to duplicate the energy signature of the Arc Reactor and the Repulsors which…was really unfortunate for Peter and Tony.

Fourth gem complete.

Cursing all the while, the Old Man was forced to drop again, diving out of the way of a shot with the Nullifer cradled in his arms as he typed in the algorithm for gem number five.

All around them, energy beams were raining down on them. Peter was barely keeping up a rushed succession of tumbling passes and swings around the room, still valiantly trying to draw their fire. In a desperate effort to keep them away from Tony, Peter had worked his way close to the Heart of the Universe and had experimentally tried to lob a few shots of web fluid at it. The webbing hit the shield and disintegrated with a popping, hissing, burning…but his actions succeeded in drawing the creatures away. At least for a moment.

Fifth gem complete.

One left. Just one. They were in the home stretch…

And the creatures seemed to sense it. They turned again in the direction of Tony and the Nullifer, focusing their attentions and their energy blasts not at Iron Man, but at the Nullifer. Spider-man was only just able to fire off a strand of webbing and pull the machine out of the way of a blast that would have no doubt fried the circuitry and left them well and truly shit out of luck.

Peter paused, Nullifer now in hand, mask vanishing away as he regarded Tony. “Keep ‘em busy for a second.”

“Peter, what are you…”

The kid was wrapping the Nullifer in a layer of webbing.

“What is he…”

‘Farraday cage. He’s making a Farraday cage.’

The Old Man drew up short, watching as the kid exhausted his webbing supply making alternating layers of plastic and conductive webbing a cocoon around the Nullifer. It was genius really, and Tony was offended that the Old Man was surprised by Peter’s ingenuity. The Farraday Cage would protect the Nullifer from the creature’s energy blasts long enough to finish that sixth and final gem…

“That’s going to leave him defenseless.”

‘No shit. We’ve gotta finish this. Fast.’

“One gem left. That’s all we need. One gem…and Igor Novikov.”

What the fuck was up with the Old Man and Igor…Igor Novikov! He remembered now!

Self Consistency Principle. It was a theory in quantum physics that postulated that any form of time travel that resulted in a temporal paradox was impossible. He had suggested that the laws of physics would prevent a time traveler from altering the past in the same way that the laws of physics prevented the average human being from walking through walls. It was similar in vein to the Grandfather Paradox, suggesting that time travel was unlikely because it would be impossible to go back and kill one’s grandfather because then the grandson would not be born and the grandfather would not be killed which would result in the grandson being born and going back in time to murder the grandfather.

Was the Old Man trying to convince him that resistance was futile, that physics itself was going to force Tony to forget Peter…or was he missing the bigger picture here?

Unless…If those theories held any water, than it would suggest that Peter had always come back to 1992. There was never a time when Peter was not an active participant in everything that had transpired since the gala. He had always had this encounter with Tony, and then what?…Tony had forgotten it? Every time? To prevent paradox? At the behest of the Stones. Stones that he had wielded, Stones that were wielding him. Surely, then, Tony had recovered his memories of Peter upon his death…? And yet…as Tony tried to probe the other man’s subconscious, the earliest memories of Peter he could find were of an encounter in the boy’s apartment before the trip to Germany. Nothing in 1992. Very little in 1992 at all, actually. It suggested the drugged out haze that the Old Man had been threatening to use to replace his memories. Could the Stones make him forget Peter so completely that even with a re-introduction to the Stones…the memories were lost? Wouldn’t the Old Man have used the Stones to get those memories back before sending Peter to 1992? Unless they weren’t his memories at all…but how? If he’d never met Peter in 1992 and Peter had always been present in 1992…

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

The equation clicked. He’d solved for X. It all made sense now. He understood. He understood what had happened and what needed to happen. Self Consistency Principle. The solution that physics itself promised.

“Good job, Baby Stark, I knew you had it in you.”

Tony’s thoughts ground to a screeching halt as his voice echoed through the vague tunnel of his perception.

The Old Man.

Fuck.

He did a damn fine impression of Howard Stark when he wanted to.

“Why thanks, Kid. If there’s one person I know how to motivate…it’s myself.”

‘It was all an act? But why?’

“The Stones have to be reconstituted to save the universe, but giving the Stones physical form again also makes the universe vulnerable to their powers. The Stones are sentient. They want to be used. They don’t want to be locked away on places like Vormir. They are always going to find their way back into the hands of those who would wield them…whether for good intentions or bad. That can’t be allowed to happen. Something…someone…has to both heal them and stop them simultaneously.”

Damn, did the Old Man always have to be the hero?

“Even in death, Baby Stark.”

‘Fuck.’

That was going to be a lot to live up to.

“You have it in you, Kid, believe me. You have it in you. Besides, I can’t do this alone. The Stones won’t let me do what needs to be done to make sure the universe is safe.”

The Old Man’s gaze turned pointedly to the Heart of the Universe.

Tony stared, barely comprehending. What did the Heart of the…

Oh.

Oh shit.

He’d known all along that Tony was going to ask for an override. After all, who knew Tony better than the Old Man himself? He knew Tony would ask for an override and he knew that Tony wouldn’t waste it. Because they were going to need it.

Now.

‘All right, Old Man. All right.’

Tony took a deep breath, through his own volition this time as the Old Man was pushed back and Tony was allowed to take control of his own body once more. It felt strange, like being hungover, but he pushed through the headache and the nausea and the discomfort. His gaze sought out Peter who had fallen to his hands and knees on the ground beside his Farraday cage. He looked up, somehow recognizing that Tony was once more in control through nothing but that single look. His gaze was so tired, so hopeful, so sad. He held out his hand to Tony but all Tony could do was shake his head. There was no time for that. The creatures were descending on them now and the last gem was almost complete. There was no time.

It took a monumental effort, but Tony turned away and used what rudimentary knowledge he had of the armor that he’d gleaned from the Old Man’s memories to fire it up and maneuver it clumsily towards the Heart of the Universe. He didn’t worry that the containment field would stop him. He knew better.

It had taken thousands of years for the Celestial Order to realize they couldn’t access the Heart of the Universe. It had taken Tony Stark only thirty seconds to understand why.

The last thing he heard before he dived head first into the wellspring of creation was Peter screaming his name…

* * * * 

The sound of the Imperial March jarred Peter and he sat up straight in his bed, looking around his room in confusion as he realized that he was home. Home in 2023. Home where Tony was dead and he’d lost five years and now he’d lost the love of his life, too. It hadn’t been a dream, either. There could be no doubt. So the machine was done, the Stones were safe, the universe would keep on existing all because of the sacrifices he and Tony had made, and no one was ever going to know. No one was ever going to know, and all Peter had to show for it was a broken heart.

Tony was gone.

Mr. Stark was gone.

He’d lost everything…

Even though Peter was angry at May for making him go to school despite the way she’d found him that morning, buried under blankets on his bed, crying and unable to even begin to explain why, he couldn’t really blame her. For all she knew, he was still upset about the Old Man dying. She had no way of knowing about Peter’s Tony, about 1992, about everything he’d experienced and everything he’d lost and he wasn’t sure he was ever going to have the ability to tell anyone else about it. Ever.

“You look like someone kicked your puppy, Parker.” Peter flinched visibly, not even bothering to look up at Michelle as she unceremoniously took the seat beside him on the school stairs. Classes weren’t going to start for another fifteen minutes and as was typical, the student body was taking whatever free moments they had outside of class to socialize. Peter had taken a seat on the steps with his backpack leaning against his legs and had been struggling to keep his composure in the midst of all the normalcy taking place around him. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to break things. He’d given up everything to save this existence and no one was ever going to know or care. He was alone in a way he’d never been alone before, worse even than when no one had known that he was Spider-man. “What’s the matter, Parker? You and TJ stop being pukingly adorable long enough to have some kind of lover’s spat?”

Now Peter was looking up at her like she had three heads. “TJ?” Who the fuck was TJ?

“Yeah TJ.” Michelle pulled a face, reaching out to smack Peter’s forehead with the butt of her palm a couple times. “You remember TJ? Your boyfriend. You never shut up about him and pretty much the only time I don’t see the two of you together being so sweet and adorable that you give me relationship diabetes is when we’re at school. That TJ. You okay, Parker? You get a head injury during that ‘internship’ of yours, last night?”

There was a cold knot of dread settling in his stomach. Maybe despite the Stones’ efforts to keep the future intact, they had managed to miss something…because Peter had most definitely not had a boyfriend when he’d gone to sleep the night before in 2023. Or ever, actually. Not in the present anyway. A part of him wanted to pull out his phone, to check the photos in his camera roll and social media. Whoever this TJ was, if they were as serious as Michelle seemed to think they were, than he’d be able to find some photographic evidence and put a face to the name. At the same time, though, even the idea of having a boyfriend so soon after losing Tony felt like a betrayal. He didn’t remember the guy. He certainly didn’t feel anything at the mention of his name, and he couldn’t bring himself to look the guy up, either. Not yet. Peter had turned off his phone blindly that morning as his alarm sounded and hadn’t bothered to turn it on again since. 

TJ was apparently not a student at Midtown, so he could wallow in his grief over losing Tony during the school day and deal with this mysterious boyfriend later. He just didn’t have the energy to do it now. It was taking everything he had just to keep himself together.

If only Ned and Michelle would get the memo.

They brought up TJ several more times over lunch and between classes. Apparently, Ned was just as concerned that something had happened between them as Michelle was, since apparently that could be the only explanation for Peter’s long face and depressive demeanor. Peter just let them believe what they wanted to believe. It was easier than trying to come up with a different excuse.

Ned had declared that they were going to go back to his place after school and work on his latest Lego venture to get Peter’s mind off of ‘the fight’. It was the kind of wonderful thing that Ned always did for Peter. It was why they were best friends. But today…today Peter didn’t want to get his mind off of anything. He wanted to go home and be alone in his room where he could find out if the Baby Monitor Protocol had retained any recordings from his trip to 1992. He wanted to see his Tony’s face. Hear his voice. Something.

Unfortunately, the world itself seemed determined to piss on him today.

May had Happy over. Just the thought of seeing them together made Peter shudder. So, instead of hiding in his room, he was forced to take to the rooftops in his suit. He still had no intention of patrolling. He wanted to find some nice, quiet rooftop somewhere and wallow in his own despair.

“Peter, you have an incoming communication from…”

“Karen,” Peter didn’t even care who was trying to flag him down on the radio. He wasn’t in the mood for Avengers business. Not today. “I already met my quota for saving the universe this week. Just…ignore all incoming calls, okay?”

“I think you might want to take this one, Peter.”

“I said, no.” He fell back against the roof with finality, staring up at the sky. “Karen, just…enter silent mode, okay?”

“Okay, Peter.”

Was it possible for an AI to sound sad and rejected, because Karen did. Peter almost felt bad about it. Almost.

He had no idea how long he laid there, crying and replaying every second of the time he’d spent with Tony in his head. He’d put on a playlist of sad songs from Spotify that were currently echoing loudly beneath his mask. It wasn’t as if he needed to worry. If anyone or anything bad was going to bother him, he’d know and the Manhattan skyscraper on which he had taken refuge was high enough to afford him some semblance of privacy.

All Peter wanted to do was relive every kiss, every laugh, everything. He’d lost five years with the modern world, but he’d gained six months in 1992 that were beyond priceless. The happiest time in his young life. Nothing else was ever going to compare…he wanted to be sad and wallow in his grief and take comfort in sad songs and memories and forget that the rest of the world even existed…

Something shook Peter’s shoulder, hard, and he let out a strangled cry of surprise as his eyes snapped open. So much for Spidey Sense!

He let out a much louder scream when he saw what was hovering over him.

Was he officially crazy? Had he made a break with reality?

No.

No.

It was probably just one of the Iron Legion. Pepper must not have turned them offline. 

Maybe S.H.I.E.L.D. was using them now. Yeah, yeah. That made sense.

Peter’s scream had been accompanied by his reflexive spring to action. He was now crouched several feet away from the armor while his heart pounded so loudly in his ears that he thought there was a helicopter overhead for a split second. But, no. No. He turned off the music filtering into his mask and slowly rose to his feet.

“Who sent you?”

“Nobody had to send me, Pete. You’re a hard guy to get a hold of, you know that? You had your phone off all day. I was worried about you. Seems like the only way we were going to talk was face to face…” The armor spread it’s hands in front of it in a displaying gesture. “So here I am.”

“Muh…Mr. Stark?”

Was he not dead? Had the future changed that much? Maybe the Stones had really failed and…

The Iron Man mask retreated to reveal a very stern expression. “You did not just Mr. Stark me again!”

Peter let out a strangled cry, half stumbling-half falling across the rooftop with arms extended. His hands found purchase on Tony’s face and he whimpered. “Tony? Are you real? Really real?”

“Course. Sweetheart, I told you I was going to fight for you. You’ve been back all of what, twelve hours? You really gave up on me that damn fast? I’m offended, Pete, really I am.”

“I thought you were dead…”

“Nope, very much alive.”

“I thought you forgot me…”

“I could never forget you, Baby. You’re the only thing in my life worth remem…” His words were cut off by Peter’s lips as he attempted to devour Tony. Hands still braced on the sides of the billionaire’s face, Peter’s mask had dematerialized a moment before he descended on the man. His grip shifted, fingers finding purchase in thick black hair as his tongue licked desperately at Tony’s mouth. The billionaire let out a hungry moan, dragging Peter in as close to him as he could, separating from him only enough to suck in a breath and begin an assault of his own.

“We need to go…I need you…” Peter had never needed anything so much. He hadn’t known it was possible to desire someone with so much intensity. After thinking that he’d lost him, after convincing himself that the man was dead and gone forever…to have him in his arms again was more than Peter had ever thought possible. He was desperate to reclaim Tony both body and soul, to prove to himself that the man was real, flesh and blood, and that he was all Peter’s.

“Your place?” Tony asked breathlessly with a devilish smirk.

“Nope. May’s there…”

“Mine then. Hold on, Hot stuff, I’m not too good at this yet.”

Peter squealed in surprise as the Iron Man suit took off. It dipped dangerously as Peter almost shot a strand of webbing at another skyscraper to prevent a fall to their deaths. Holding onto to Tony for dear life, the teenager could only watch with wide eyes from behind his reconstituted mask as he was flown back to Tony’s place… “Wait, I thought you sold…”

“He did. I bought it back. Can’t have someone else in Stark Tower, that’s…sacrilege.”

“Avengers Tower actually…”

“Yeah, we’ll see…”

Peter giggled, holding his breath as they landed on the Helipad and the Iron Man armor melted away. Peter was quick to shed his suit as well. The moment both armors were gone, Tony had dragged him into another kiss and was leading him back towards the rooftop entry and the Penthouse below.

Clothes were shed in a trail from the door to the bed with pants and underwear being the last to fall somewhere to the side of the Alaskan King. Neither man seemed willing to part from the other for long. Some part of them was in a constant state of contact as kisses and caresses gave way to more purposeful stroking and exploring. After nearly losing each other, both men were anxious to find physical comfort in their reunion.

Fingernails raked over skin.

Teeth nipped at throats and thighs.

Hands curled in and around the most intimate areas of their bodies as passionate cries resounded off the bedroom walls and echoed back to their own hungry ears.

Both men collapsed sometime later after testing the physical limits of their own young endurance. Peter was curled into Tony, holding onto him as if he feared that the man might vanish again the moment he let go.

There was silence for a time, the only sound that of their labored breathing. And then… Peter sat up looking absolutely stricken.

“I…Tony, I have to tell you something…I don’t know how but something we did back there had to have changed something here. I don’t know what or why but I guess…I have a boyfriend now?” Peter was flushed and breathless and embarrassed and hoping that Tony wasn’t going to be angry at this revelation.

“Oh?” 

Peter didn’t know if that single word response was a good or a bad sign. Tony was rarely a man of few words, so the teenager was inclined to think it was bad. Very bad.

“I’m going to break up with him.” Peter was quick to add that tidbit, as if he thought that might make it all okay. “Now. I’m going to break up with him now. I just…I have to find his number and I’ll call him and I’ll end it…it’s not really my fault anyway, is it? I wasn’t dating TJ before 1992. I would never choose him over you, ever. I don’t even know what he looks like or who he is…or why I started dating him in the first place but it’s definitely over as soon as I get his number…”

Tony was unnaturally quiet as Peter dangled over the side of the bed to retrieve his jeans and fish the cell out of the pocket. His anxious wait for the phone to boot was rewarded by an unexpected lockscreen. “Oh.” It was an adorable picture of the two of them, Tony and Peter. A selfie in which Tony was kissing Peter’s cheek and Peter was caught in the act of blushing and laughing into the camera. “When did we…how did this even get on here?” Peter tilted the phone for Tony to see, but the billionaire merely shrugged.

“Oh geez.” His notifications were a horror show. “He called me like…God, 72 times since this morning? And 49 texts. Psycho much?”

“He was probably worried about you.”

“Uh, yeah, no. 72 calls and 49 texts in a single day is stalkery, thank you very much. He’s clearly a creep. I’ll just…I’ll go do this in there.” Peter gestured to the bathroom and left the bed, dragging a sheet with him which he tied around his body like a toga and escaped into the bathroom, shutting the tail end of the sheet in the door.

Tony waited patiently, staring at the bathroom door until he heard his phone ringing on the bedside table. He picked it up, thumbed it open, and held it up to his ear as he cleared his throat. “One stalkery, creep, psycho boyfriend at your service, Beautiful.”

There was a garbled sound on the end of the phone and then it went dead and Peter’s head poked out of the bathroom door. “You?”

“Me.”

“You’re…”

“It was the Old Man’s idea of a joke. He knew I’d hate it, the whole TJ thing. Gonna take me years to break people of that habit. I suppose I should have seen it coming…”

Peter crawled back up onto the bed, his phone still clutched tightly in one hand. “I don’t understand.” Now he was looking down, scrolling through his missed messages, staring at photographs on his phone that he didn’t remember taking. So many pictures of the two of them being every bit as adorable as Michelle had suggested. “How?”

“You gonna let me explain how I got here now, Sweetheart?”

Peter nodded, dumbfounded.

For once, the kid didn’t even interrupt as Tony began to explain what it was like to share his body with the Old Man. He explained about Igor Novikov and the struggle he’d had to find the significance, about his own last minute revelation.

“I still don’t get it.” Tony paused and Peter felt stupid even admitting it, but “How could I have always been in 1992? How could Mr. Stark have never known me if I was? How does you being here have anything to do with Igor Novikov?”

Tony smirked, “I’m getting to that, Sweetheart, be patient. Now…you remember what we learned about the Heart of the Universe?”

“That it’s where the Big Bang happened, where the Stones were first made and if they ended up back in it than the universe was going to end.”

“And what did the Celestial Order want to do with it?”

“End war and chaos and make the universe peaceful.”

“How were they going to do that?”

“With the Heart of the Universe.”

“But how?”

Peter paused, cocking his head and considering the question. “I don’t know. I guess…I guess the Heart must be powerful, too. I mean. Well. It was where the Big Bang happened. It was the origin of the singularities so…Maybe it can do things like the Infinity Stones can?”

“It can. I speak from experience.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Oh! I thought I saw you flying into it…”

“Yeah, turns out the Celestial Order was missing something really important to breach that containment field. I realized that if there was danger in the Stones reuniting with the Heart, than the Stones must be able to break that barrier and enter the Heart. I couldn’t use the Stones, but I had the Old Man with me. He’d used them, was used by them, there must have been enough residual energy to breach the containment field…and that was apparently all I needed.”

“What…what did you do with the Heart of the Universe, Tony?”

The billionaire chuckled. “Created a copy of myself. Perfect clone. All the same memories and experiences, everything down to the most minute atom of my existence except that he had no memory of ever meeting you.”

Peter stared at him blankly for several minutes before things began to click. “Igor Novikov! The Stones didn’t have to erase his memory because I was never in it to begin with…I was always in 1992, I was always with you, but I was never with him…the other you…” Peter gasped softly. “With Mr. Stark.”

“Oh, the Stones erased his memory anyway along with Fury and Happy and about a dozen other people. Protocols and all. It’s just…there was nothing to erase in the Old Man’s memory, really. Anyway. He stayed there. 1992. Lived that whole life you told me about. Became the Old Man. Sacrificed his life to save the universe, yadda yadda yadda. Future unchanged. Paradoxes eliminated. Self Consistency Principle proved. And that freed me to come here.”

“But…how?”

“You paying attention, Pete? I was inside the Heart of the Universe…making a magical copy of myself was easy. Making a place for me in the future was even easier.”

“But…using the Stones killed Mr. Stark, how did you not die?”

“Hard to explain. I think…I think it might have ended badly…probably. When you’re there, in the Heart…it’s not like you’re using power. You are the power…one with the universe. You just…think things and they happen. It’s a religious experience. I’m sure if I’d tried to leave on my own that I would have had a hard time of it, but I had the Old Man’s help and the Old Man had already had so much contact with the Stones by this point…I think he had a bit more resistance than the average human…at least now.”

Peter’s eyes widened as he looked away from Tony, worrying the phone in his lap as he sucked in a few deep breaths. “Mr. Stark helped you? To…be here?”

Tony reached out to gently tilt Peter’s chin up and plant a soft kiss on his lips. “That was his plan all along, Baby. From night one in your dreams and the Gala and…yeah. He helped. Turns out he knows us both pretty damn well and we were pretty easy to manipulate. He was always a dozen steps ahead of us.”

Peter looked positively stricken. “I owe him an apology, Tony. I said terrible things to him. I was so angry…and he was helping us all along. Now I can’t tell him…”

“Believe me, Sweetheart, he knows. I had to leave him behind in the Heart of the Universe so he could make sure that no one like Thanos ever had the chance to use those Stones or the Heart ever again, so he could send me out of it, send me here. He’s one with powers of the universe now…”

Peter’s mouth fell open in shock, gaze flicking around the bedroom as if he expected to see some evidence of the Old Man’s omnipresence. “So…Mr. Stark became a god?”

“I mean…are you really that shocked? Is it that unbelievable to throw a god complex onto my laundry list of psychological issues, Peter? I mean, really?”

“So he’s not…he’s not Earth’s Greatest Defender anymore…”

“He’s the Universe’s. Yeah.” Tony chuckled. 

“Okay. That explains…it explains how you got here and all but…but…why is everybody calling you TJ?”

Tony’s laughter died down as he grimaced. “Oh yeah. That. We both, the Old Man and I, agreed that the truth might be…too much for people. We had to think about the kid…Morgan? His wife…er widow. There would be a lot of explaining, a lot of people questioning the ethics and just…it wouldn’t be good. People would have a hard time understanding where he ended and I began, that we weren’t the same person…I want to be free to be with you without dealing with a bunch of bullshit, and I don’t want everyone to treat me like I’m the second coming of the Old Man, because despite our obvious similarities…we’re two totally different people. So, the Old Man and I concocted a backstory and…ceded it through people’s memories, electronic databases, paperwork where necessary to make everything seem legit…”

“Backstory?”

“Yeah. Backstory. So, I guess I’m now Anthony Edward Stark, II…”

Peter covered his mouth to hold back a laugh. “Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! TJ is Tony Junior!”

“The second.”

“Junior.”

“Do you want to hear this story or not?”

Peter was still giggling, but he waved a hand for Tony to continue. “No no no, yeah, no, I totally want to hear it. I’m sorry…Junior.”

“You’re already making me regret this time travel thing, Peter.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I really do want to hear it, go on. Please.”

“Yeah, okay. So, Anthony Edward Stark, II was born from one of those one and done quickie Vegas weddings that happen after a night of hard core drug use. Annulled within days. The Old Man wasn’t exactly dad material in those days, obviously, so the kid was raised by his mother and wasn’t too big on dear old dad. Cause you know, they say lies based on truth are easier to sell. Howard was never my biggest fan and my relationship with him was always fucked. So, makes sense to make sure my psychological issues are well founded, right? Anyway, so, the kid and the Old Man were never close. But he did give him boarding school and paid for MIT and all that jazz. I mean, he tried to make amends and step up there towards the teen years, but the kid wasn’t having it.”

Peter grimaced. “Wow, that’s grim. So, what, was I some surrogate son to make up for you being a little brat?”

Tony shrugged. “Probably what people think, but who can say, really since this is all a work of fiction?”

“Anyway, we met at a Stark Industries thing…hit it off…started dating…”

“You realize I have no memory of any of this?”

Tony laughed, “Kid, our meet cute is still the same. Or…as similar as we could swing it. Stark Industries Gala, me trying to seduce you, you doing the Spidey thing, fighting the bad guys, impressing the fuck out of me with your skills and your beauty…”

Peter felt himself blushing, “Well, I mean, I guess that makes sense…”

“Yeah. Well. We started dating and then Thanos happened and you were dusted…”

“You weren’t?” Peter looked a little confused. 

“Nope.”

“But if you weren’t dusted…in this backstory of yours, you were sixteen when we started dating…and I came back to you like…five years older and we just…picked up where we left off?”

“Pretty much. I mean, I got to have a little bit of say in this backstory, Peter. The Old Man could stick me with a terrible nickname, more than one actually, but I at least get to seem like an amazing boyfriend who literally waited and pined for you for five fucking years until you came back…”

Peter rolled his eyes, “As if anyone is ever going to believe that.”

“Documented proof, baby. Check the internet. Check the tabloids. TJ Stark was off the market for a full five years because he was waiting for his baby to come back.”

“Michelle is right, we’re disgusting.”

“Shut up, you love it.”

“Oh no, I do. I definitely do, but it’s just…it’s wonderfully gross…I’d be gagging if it was anyone else’s love story.”

“Good thing it’s ours then.”

“Uh huh, good thing.” Peter was back to looking at the photos on his phone again. “One problem with this, though…where does this leave Morgan in the will?”

“Peter…come on. You know that at the time of his death, the Old Man was worth well over 40 billion dollars not including non-liquid assets like stock shares and real estate. You can split 40 billion dollars two ways and still have an obscene amount of wealth. So, Morgan really isn’t losing that much. I mean, she is, but she won’t miss it. Besides, she gains a big brother who will fucking murder anyone who displaces a hair on her adorable little head…”

“Two big brothers. Two of them.” Peter pointed at himself and then Tony. “I want in on revenge killings in Morgan’s name.”

“Done.”

Peter smirked, “What about Ms. Potts, though?”

“She can stay CEO of SI for all I care. That was one job I never wanted and she’s done a pretty fucking incredible job from what I’ve been able to tell. So, yeah, Pep runs the company. I’ll just take over the Old Man’s place in R&D because that’s always where I’ve enjoyed working best anyway. When Morgan grows up she can do whatever she wants. Join me. Join Pep. Take over for Pep. Become a SCUBA diving instructor…follow her bliss. No one to stop her.”

“I suppose that doesn’t seem too bad…”

“Nah, I don’t want to ruin the kid’s life. She’s sweet. I like her…just not interested in parenting her, you know? I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility. Yet. Oh! and of course your Internship with SI is safe. You’ll even still be working with the head of R&D…”

Peter rolled his eyes, “Yeah, I was really worried you weren’t going to want me around…”

“Well, you do have a cause for concern, Beautiful. You’re sexy as fuck but you can be a little distracting…”

“Wait. Wait. Wait. I’m distracting? Me. Who is the one who usually does the distracting? Is it me?”

“About half the time, yes.”

Peter pursed his lips, considering this before nodding. “I mean, half seems accurate.”

“Mhm.”

A pause. “And um…R&D at SI is all you’re going to be taking over for Mr. Stark?”

“You mean am I going to be taking over as Iron Man?”

“Yeah…”

Tony held his hand out for Peter’s phone, opening an app and typing in a quick search before he spun it around. “The Old Man is a fucking bastard…”

“Oh. My. God. They’re not calling you…”

“Ironlad. Yeah. As if TJ and Junior were not degrading enough.”

“Oh my god, this is the greatest day of my life!” Peter flopped onto his side, holding his stomach as he laughed so hard that tears formed in his eyes. “Ironlad! Oh my gosh!”

“It’s not funny. You know how long it’s going to take me to get people to drop the lad in favor of something that doesn’t sound prepubescent?”

“Could be worse. He coulda told you he didn’t want you in the Iron Man armor…”

“Nah, he doesn’t want to leave you or the world without proper back up. He even gave me a few final instructions before we went our separate ways. You want to hear ‘em?”

Peter nodded eagerly, sitting up and leaning forward in anticipation of whatever his mentor’s final pieces of sage advice might entail.

“It’s gonna be hard to move on without Nat and Cap and the Old Man, but we gotta. The world has martyrs now. Heroes who died to save us all. And the world loves a martyr. If the population is ever going to let go of their cynicism towards superheroes and drop things like the Sakovia Accords, it’ll be now. Time to make the world listen to us. Men like Ross don’t want to, but we have to make them hear us. No more blaming the ones who are willing to die to protect this rock of ours. No more pretending that these battles are black and white. No more. They need us, Thanos proved that, and when the shit hits the fan…really hits the fan…we don’t have time to sit around while politicians fight about something they don’t understand. We’re taking the gift that the old guard gave us, and we’re running with it. We don’t have to do this alone. We’ve got Dr. Banner and Barton and Thor. And we have the Old Man…cause if things get bad, really bad, he’ll steer us in the right direction. He’s basically a god now, I have no doubt he’ll find his way back if and when we need him…”

“Yeah, he’s good at that…”

“Listen, Pete, you wanted to be an Avenger…it’s not the team you thought you were joining…but it’s a team that needs you. You want to help me assemble this tribute band, Beautiful? I could use a goody-two shoes with a heart of gold to keep me honest. The Old Man said that was a necessity. Iron Man is always gonna need a boy scout to keep him on the straight and narrow…as long as you don’t have any one-armed skeletons in your closet…”

Peter burst out laughing, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “Spiders don’t have skeletons at all actually…”

“Ugh, that was bad, even for you…”

“Oh, hush, Junior, you liked it.”

“Don’t call me that…”

“Call you what, Ironlad?”

“You’re going to send me running back to 1992…”

“You’d never be able to leave me, don’t think you scare me.”

“Oh, I don’t want to scare you, Beautiful. We got a little while before May misses you, right? Because there are so many other things I want to do to you right now besides scare you…”

Light years away within the ever swirling expanse of the Heart of the Universe, Tony Stark allowed himself to revel in his victory over the Infinity Stones and the knowledge that everyone he loved was, in fact, going to be okay.

Everyone was safe.

Everyone was cared for.

Happy endings were assured.

Everything was as it should be.

At least, for now…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note:
> 
> First of all, I would like to thank you all for taking this journey with me. Your kind words and encouragement have been a tremendous delight to me through the creation process! Everyone’s theories and observations helped me to make this story more well rounded and complete and for that I owe you all a great debt of gratitude!
> 
> I fell in love with these characters and this story through the course of writing it and admit that I am loathe to give them up already. So, if you would be interested in following me into a sequel adventure…I can be very easily persuaded to continue these adventures through at least one more story. (Maybe more, who knows!) If this is something that would interest you, please let me know!
> 
> If you’re interested in learning about any of my other Starker projects or you would like to submit a prompt, you can find me @IntotheStarkerverse on Tumblr. I always love to receive prompts (though, as GeekyMarvel can now attest, sometimes I get very carried away with them…..) Heck, if you have ideas for something involving this incarnation of these two crazy kids and this little corner of the Starkerverse…than fuck yeah, lay ‘em on me!
> 
> And finally, for all of you who actually cared enough to read my Author’s Note, a very special treat…
> 
>  
> 
> !!!! After the Author’s Note Scene !!!!
> 
>  
> 
> “Still nothing?”
> 
> A grunt escaped the man’s throat as he leaned back in his chair and brushed a hand through his salt and pepper waves. “It’s always nothing, Mary.”
> 
> “Until it’s something.”
> 
> The man eyed his wife dubiously but managed a half smile. “You’re right. We keep sending out the distress call and eventually, someday, someone is going to hear it.”
> 
> Mary gave his shoulders a squeeze. “We never give up, Richard Parker. Not now, not ever. Nothing is ever impossible…”
> 
> “Until we accept that it is.” Richard finished the statement, pulling his wife into an embrace. “Too bad we’ll never see that boyfriend of Stark’s again. I’m sure he’d love to know his words of advice have become your own personal mantra, Mary.”
> 
> “So much so that we named our son after him…”
> 
> Richard’s expression darkened.
> 
> “We’re going to see him again, Richard. Peter. We’re going to see him again.”
> 
> “He’s practically an adult now, Mary…We missed so much…”
> 
> Mary blinked back her own tears. “I know, Sweetheart, but he’s still got a lot of life ahead of him and so do we. There’s a way out of this, I promise you. There has to be…we just have to have faith, and we have to find it.”
> 
> “Yeah, and outsmart an evil, billionaire, playboy despot while we’re at it…”


	11. The Sequel has Arrived!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, that's right everyone...the time has finally come for me to share with you the sequel to Time of Our Lives. I hope that it can live up to everyone's expectations. I am also taking this opportunity to repost the after the Author's Note scene below in case readers overlooked it and miss this crucial clue to what is about to transpire in 'Welcome to My Dark Side.'

After the Author's Note Scene......

 

“Still nothing?”

A grunt escaped the man’s throat as he leaned back in his chair and brushed a hand through his salt and pepper waves. “It’s always nothing, Mary.”

“Until it’s something.”

The man eyed his wife dubiously but managed a half smile. “You’re right. We keep sending out the distress call and eventually, someday, someone is going to hear it.”

Mary gave his shoulders a squeeze. “We never give up, Richard Parker. Not now, not ever. Nothing is ever impossible…”

“Until we accept that it is.” Richard finished the statement, pulling his wife into an embrace. “Too bad we’ll never see that boyfriend of Stark’s again. I’m sure he’d love to know his words of advice have become your own personal mantra, Mary.”

“So much so that we named our son after him…”

Richard’s expression darkened.

“We’re going to see him again, Richard. Peter. We’re going to see him again.”

“He’s practically an adult now, Mary…We missed so much…”

Mary blinked back her own tears. “I know, Sweetheart, but he’s still got a lot of life ahead of him and so do we. There’s a way out of this, I promise you. There has to be…we just have to have faith, and we have to find it.”

“Yeah, and outsmart an evil, billionaire, playboy despot while we’re at it…”


End file.
